


Someone Who's Just Like You

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Affairs, Affection, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Conversations, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Booty Calls, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Breakfast, Chance Meetings, Cheating, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Food Trucks, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Guilt, Heartbreak, Honesty, M/M, Misery, Mistakes, Old Friends, One Night Stands, Platonic Cuddling, Porn Watching, School Reunion, Secrets, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5840014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark finds himself suddenly alone, he turns to his best friend for comfort and too many drinks.</p><p>Or, that time Mark got dumped, had a one night stand, went to his ten year reunion, and everything turned into a complete disaster from there on out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, taking a sip of his beer. He'd just gotten through mentioning the fact that he was actually single now. Or he was as of three days ago, when Kevin had packed up all his stuff, loaded his car with boxes, and driven away.

“I can't believe it.”

“I can.” Mark shrugged. “We were having problems for a while.”

“Still...” Kian whistled in disbelief, fingers stroking his glass in slight agitation. “I thought you guys'd pull through this time for sure.”

“So did I, sort of. I guess I just got used to...” He took another sip of his beer, trying to think. “I don't know. After a while I stopped thinking he was actually going to go. He'd say he was, I wouldn't try to make him stay because I didn't really believe him, and then one day... I guess I should have tried harder.”

“What was the reason this time?”

“Honestly?” There was a lump in Mark's throat. He refused to acknowledge it, though, like it was admitting how pissed off and upset he was and he refused to give that bastard the satisfaction. “I think he slept with that guy at his work.”

“What, again?” Kian frowned. “Bastard.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I don't know. Maybe I was an idiot for taking him back last time, but it was like two years ago. I thought things had changed, but...” He sighed. “Not making that mistake again. I guess I should have expected it. He's always around these gorgeous models and taking photos of them with their shirts off. Gotta be better than what he's got at home.”

“Don't be stupid. You're fine.” A hand patted his. Mark appreciated it. “You're gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Mark rolled his eyes, got a laugh in response. He'd held off telling anyone about it, wanted to get his head wrapped around the idea before he tried to put it into words. After five years it felt a bit too much to call up his mother and tell him he was single now, that the nice boy who had become part of the family wouldn't be around again.

So he'd sat at home, staring at the TV and not changing his socks for days on end. Then Kian had called and asked if he wanted to go to the pub.

“Finish that.” Kian pointed at Mark's beer, standing up. “I'm going to get us something stronger.”

“You don't ha...”

“We're getting shitfaced.” Kian assured him. “I'm going to get you tanked and we're going to bitch about every boy who ever did us wrong, and believe me I have a list.” He winked, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Mark laughing to himself, taking a long swallow of what was left of his beer.

He didn't know that his own list was all that impressive. Being with the same guy for the five years he'd been out didn't exactly lead to a wealth of experience, and the couple of lads he'd dated in the first few years had stuck around for such a short amount of time as to have essentially not existed. Then he was working at a shitty ice-cream parlour to get himself through university and Kevin had come in, ordered a chocolate chip cone and had ended up hanging around the counter for another twenty minutes, having a chat. The place had basically been empty, but by the time the next customer had finally wandered up, Mark had a phone number written on the back of his hand in Sharpie.

Kevin had moved in six months later.

“Right.” Kian plonked back down with a raft of shots sloshing precariously between his hands. “These are for you.” He pushed five over Mark's way. “These are mine. Every one we do we're going to say one thing we hate about our exes. Ready?”

“Kian...”

“Nope. Here we go.” Kian picked the first one up. “Gary borrowed money off me and never gave it back. Then I found out he'd been using it to buy his three other boyfriends presents.” Mark laughed. That had been a bad one. Some older guy Kian had started dating just after school. Had seemed way too flash and Kian hadn't been experienced enough to know better. “Arsehole.” He knocked it back, grimaced, and plonked it back on the table. “Your turn.”

“I don't know...” Mark looked down at the shots. It seemed too soon to be trashing the man he'd just spent over half his adult life with. “He wasn't that bad.”

“Come on...”

“Erm... He... used to say he didn't want any popcorn at the movies and then eat all of mine?” He knocked back the shot, wincing when he felt tequila fizz on the back of his tongue.

“That was shit.”

“It was annoying.”

“Okay, well, that's a practice one.” Kian rolled his eyes. “Right... Jean-Luc smashed my car windows when I told him maybe we should spend some time apart. Arsehole.” He knocked back another, tongue poking out in disgust. Mark laughed, rolling his eyes. Kian did have a terrible history with guys. It wasn't that he was a bad boyfriend or anything, he just seemed to have awful luck with lads who seemed nice enough... until you actually got to know them.

“Um... I dunno. He used to leave his underwear in the bathroom sink.”

“He cheated on you. At least twice.”

That 'at least' cut like a knife. Mark reached out, picking up the second glass.

“I worked hours making a really nice dinner once and then he asked if maybe 'we' should be eating that seeing as 'we' were supposed to be on a diet.” He saw Kian's lip curl in surprise just before he tipped his head back, necking the shot. “Arsehole.” He slammed it back on the table.

“Fucker!”

“I know!” Mark exclaimed, feeling that second one go to his head. “I handed him a carrot and ate the whole meal by myself in front of him. Especially the pudding.”

“Good.” Kian laughed, reaching for another glass. “Tim was convinced I was cheating on him. He stalked me to work twice. Then I broke up with him because survey says...” He pointed at Mark, who laughed, knowing how this sentence was about to end. “Correct. He was cheating on me. With his cousin."

Mark giggled, reaching for another shot. This was quite fun.

 

*

 

“So and then I was like... no. No, if you wanna smoke couch on your weed all day then tha's fine! It's _fine_ , Pete, but don't you... no. No, Mark, shhh... no. I'm telling a fuckin' story. Look, I said...” Kian pursed his lips, hazy eyes searching for the word. Mark laughed, leaning in the corner of the booth with him and feeling the room spin. He wasn't as drunk as Kian but he was certainly getting there.

“What'd you say?” He prompted.

“What?”

“To Pete?”

“Pete! Ha!” Kian laughed bitterly. “That fucker.” He pouted, eyebrows knitting in a frown. “If he wants ta get fuckin' high on his fuckin' couch tha's fine but don't you... don't you get fuckin' toast crumbs in me fuckin' PS2, mate cos I...” A head landed on Mark's shoulder, heavy with drink. “Fucker.”

“Fucker.” Mark agreed. The shots had turned into more shots. It was getting late but he didn't really wanted to leave, knew he'd just end up going home to an empty house. “My boyfriend... no. No, my _ex_ -boyfriend, he said he was just going out with friends. Just going out. And then two hours later he comes home and he smells like some fucking... fucking whore's cologne, right? And I'm like, what, did you trip and land in a fountain of Obsession for Men?” Kian started to laugh, shaking against Mark's side. “And he's like no, I fucking hate that cologne it must've been some arsehole at the pub, and I'm like right... and a month later he comes home two hours late with the same fucking smell and says he was stuck at work. _Stuck_ at _work_ , Kian.”

“Fucker!” Kian growled savagely. “You... You're fuckin' lovely mate. He's not good enough.”

“Yeah.” Mark leaned forward, burying his head in his arm on the table. He felt a kiss press to the back of his head and smiled, fumbling until he could squeeze Kian's knee. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kian laughed, then when Mark opened his eyes he was in view, mirroring Mark's pose on the table. “Whatcha doin'?”

“Ugh.” Mark closed his eyes. Opened them again. Kian was nodding in understanding.

“I know, right?” The boy next to him sighed. “We're s'posed to be sorted by now. I'm almos' fuckin' thirty and I'm still dating _bastards_.” He growled the last word, then sighed, huffing out a breath. “This is shit.”

“It's so shit.” Mark groaned. “How'm I supposed to start again? I gave my whole fucking _life_ to...” He felt tears well in his eyes, and closed them until he could get himself under control. Fingers gently touched his cheek.

“You need a shag.”

“I need another drink.” Mark snorted, smiling when a kiss touched the end of his nose. “Get me another drink.”  
  
“Coming ri' up.” Kian staggered away, beginning to force his way into the throng surrounding the bar. Mark sat up, resting his chin in his hands and staring blankly at the packed dancefloor. The music wasn't great, but at least it was loud. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time.

“You alright?” He looked up, caught dancing blue eyes, and blinked to clear his vision a bit. There was a guy standing there, slender and cute with short blonde hair and a friendly smirk.

“I'm okay.” Mark managed to force a smile onto his lips. “Do I look that miserable?”

“A bit, yeah.” The other guy chuckled. “Boy trouble?”

“Yeah.” Mark sighed. “Bastard.”

“They usually are.” There was another soft laugh. “It's not just you, if it helps?”

“Was he a bastard?”

“Not really. Just...” He sighed, sinking down next to Mark, who stared, surprised by the guy's apparent comfort at settling into a stranger's booth. “You know when it's over and it's not really anybody's fault, but you feel like you're just sort of waiting for the other person to say something so you don't have to?” Mark nodded. Yeah, he knew exactly what that was like. “Mm, that's the one.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine. Sorry. Nicky.” He held out a hand. Mark shook. “Hi.”

“Mark. Hey.” He smiled weakly. “My mate says I need a shag.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“No, I don't mean...”

“I know. I get ya.” Nicky laughed. “It's fine. I'm starting to feel a bit like I'm not leaving here without a blowie in the toilets. Personal challenge, like. Someone out there still has to want me, even if he doesn't.”

Mark shook his head, surprised. This guy was stupidly gorgeous. How the hell could anyone not want him?

“You're really cute.”  
  
“Thanks. I'm really drunk.” Nicky lifted the beer Mark hadn't noticed he was holding. “Which is probably why I said hi. Takes one to spot one.”

“Drunk and miserable?”

“And a bit angry and maybe horny as well.” Nicky sighed. Mark nodded in agreement. “What are you like in bed? You alright?”

“Dunno. I think so.” Mark shrugged. It was a bit hard to tell after so long with one person, and by the end he'd gotten the feeling that neither of them could do anything right. Though it wasn't the sex that had been the problem. “I do okay.”

“Yeah.” A hand patted his. “Look, you're really cute. You wanna come back to mine and just fuck for like... ages?”

“Um.” Mark's eyes widened in surprise. “Have sex with you?”

“Yes please.” Nicky nodded. “Nothing fancy or anything. Just... really filthy, pornographic sex until I pass out.” His gaze was a little pleading and Mark found himself laughing, not sure whether to be flattered or offended. Nicky was gorgeous, though, and the last thing he wanted to do was go back to his empty house and stare at the empty half of the wardrobe and the empty side of the sink and the empty spots where pictures had been removed from the walls.

He made a decision.

“How far away's your place?”

 

*

 

“Oh god...” Mark gasped, grabbing at the sheets he was braced on when he felt Nicky begin to move harder, faster, his hips like a wave while Mark tried to stay afloat, his other hand holding a slender waist while he was taken in almost violently. Trying to figure out whether he was fucking Nicky or if Nicky was just fucking himself, the blonde shoving back so hard Mark couldn't get his breath against the onslaught of sensation.

“That's it.” Nicky grunted, his head hanging low. Mark scraped teeth down the back of his neck, hand sliding down to fist a bobbing erection that filled his hand beautifully. Nicky moaned in response, looking over his shoulder.

“Jesus.” Mark gasped, trying to shift his knees for a bit of purchase. “So fucking sexy.” He was drunk. Didn't care that Nicky was too. They'd stumbled out of the club together and Mark had helped Kian into a cab, ignoring the lascivious wink he was given when his friend saw what Mark was going home with. Then they'd fallen into their own cab and been making out on the backseat before they'd even started rolling.

“Fuck me.” Nicky groaned. “Fuck. Right there, uh...” He cried out, and Mark had to straighten up when Nicky did, both of them falling back onto their knees, Nicky's thighs spreading to kneel over his lap, Mark still stroking him as a head lolled back onto his shoulder while hips rode him hard. “God, I'm...” He cried out again, one hand coming back to fist in Mark's hair. “There. Oh...” Mark felt him throb, felt a leaking trickle slicken the stroke. “Please...”

“Yes...” Mark hissed, feeling the way Nicky was reacting affect him hard. God, when was the last time it had been like this? Desperate and filthy and clawing at each other and Jesus, Nicky's fingers were biting into his thigh and he was seizing up, fluttering around Mark's cock and it was just...

“Gonna come.” Nicky gasped. “Don't stop. Don't... ah!” He was gone a second later, flooding over Mark's hand with a strangled growl, eyes rolling back while Mark buried his forehead in a sweaty shoulder and tried to hang on a moment longer. Just a little longer. Just to feel...

He held Nicky's slackening hips still, planting his knees and rocking up hard, trying to hold the rhythm that already had him balanced on the edge. Nicky was whimpering, making low, forced gasps with every thrust. Mark's eyes screwed shut, the onslaught of pleasure too much, stars bursting behind his closed lids.

“Do it.” Nicky gasped. “God, fill me up. Come on."

He let go. Or rather, it let him go, like a harness breaking while he plummeted into the feeling of Nicky, tight and wet and hot and _squeezing_ and everything was gone in a disorientating blur while he filled the condom, heard Nicky whimper above the deafening thump of his climax.

He came to on his back with Nicky's feet next to his head, the other boy laid on his front and panting almost as hard as Mark was, breaths broken by gasping giggles. Mark laughed, feeling it tighten in his chest.

“Fucking hell.”

“Yeah.” Nicky panted back, rolling onto his back. “Shit.” He lifted his head, grinned, then flopped back down again while Mark tried to catch his breath. “Grand.” He commented. “Needed that.”

“Tell me about it.” Mark laughed. “Cheers.”

“Not a problem.” Nicky snorted. A foot touched his shoulder. “I can go again. You wanna go again?” Mark shook his head in disbelief, staring up at the ceiling while he rolled the condom off. Sharp wetness sucked gently at his ankle and when he looked down Nicky was nibbling him, a cheeky grin on his face. Mark glanced at the clock beside the bed and then realised he had nowhere else to be.

“Give me like ten minutes.” He grinned, tucking his hands behind his head. “You got anything to eat?”

 

*

 

Mark hadn't expected to be back in bed this early in the day, but he'd showered at Nicky's around dawn and then hadn't really felt like going back to his own place. So he'd gone to Kian's flat, knocked on the door to find a haggard, hungover face staring back at him, then followed Kian silently back into his bedroom, laughing when the older boy climbed back in and shut his eyes.

So he'd joined him, pulling the blankets over his head and smiling when Kian's hand gently touched his.

“So fucking hungover.” Kian murmured. Mark nodded, thinking that if he'd actually been to sleep he'd be about the same. “What happened?”

“Shots.” Mark explained.

“Right...” Kian sighed. “You went home with some guy.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. He really had. The second time had been even better, sucking Nicky slowly to stiffness and then climbing on top, sitting on a fairly impressive cock that had split him with beautiful, deep agony until he'd been circling his second climax, gasping to catch his breath while Nicky had yelped and tilted further into him, the two of them kissing hard like they were feeding off each other.

“Good?”

“Good.” Mark found himself smiling stupidly, saw Kian roll his eyes. “I dunno. It was a shag.”

“Feel better?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Not really.”

“I'm sorry.” Fingers touched his while Kian's eyes drifted closed again. “I'm gonna go back to sleep now. You staying?”

“Sure.” Mark closed his own eyes, smiling when he felt a kiss brush his forehead, Kian tugging him in until they were pressed together, his head buried in a strong chest. “Thanks, Ki.”

“For what?”

“Dunno. Just... I think I needed last night. So thanks.”

“Cool.” Kian yawned. Mark snuggled in tighter. “I'm good like that.”

“Yeah.” Mark smiled. “You are.”

 

*

 

He and Kian hadn't always been this close. Early on they'd barely been friends at all, but in the last year or so of highschool Kian had been accidentally outed. It had been awful at the time – he'd been sort of seeing this guy he'd met at the movies. What he hadn't realised at the time was that the guy was the older brother of one of the girls in their class, a fact he'd been pretty quickly made aware of when she'd walked in on them making out at their place when their parents were supposed to be out. The fact that Kian wasn't, in fact, eighteen, had been first on the list of revelations, and he'd been quickly dumped. By the end of the next day the whole school knew.

Mark had found him hiding behind the toilets at the back end of the football field, crying angrily and kicking the hell out of the brick wall. They'd sat down, Mark had offered a bag of gummi bears he'd had in his backpack, Kian had taken a handful, and they'd just started chatting. Had been more or less inseparable ever since.

They'd lived together when they'd first come to Dublin. Both of them had no clue, so they'd just muddled along together, through university, through all those terrible, wonderful firsts and experiences. He could, without exception, say that Kian had been there for pretty much every major moment of his life.

Right now he was slumped at the table while Mark made a midday breakfast of scrambled eggs amongst the mess of Kian's kitchen.

“Remember when we lived in that shitty flat in Inchicore and we had to cook on a camp stove?”

“Yeah. You made the best eggs.”

“I still make the best eggs.”

“I know.” Kian grinned, looking up. “We got any gigs this week?”  
  
“Yeah. Want to take the van to the festival in Portmarnock.” Mark stirred in some herbs he'd managed to salvage from Kian's fridge. “It's an arts thing, so I figure we take a few of the nice coffee syrups or something. Crepes and mini pancakes sort of thing.”

“Fancy.” Kian nodded. “Remember how we went to college for ages and now we have a food van?”

“It rings a bell.”

“Aren't you glad you spent four years getting that teaching degree?”

“It was definitely an experience.” Mark agreed. “How's that music degree coming along?”

“Gathering dust.” Kian snorted. “Is it just me or does every brilliant idea start with getting drunk in my backyard?”

“We could try that now. Be millionaires by the end of the week.”

“I'm not drinking right now.” Kian sighed, burying his face in his arms. Mark snorted, turning off the hob and sorting out a plate. Kian lifted his head as it slid in front of him, reaching out to snag a fork. “Thanks. I was supposed to be making you feel better.”

“It's fine.” Mark smiled, settling down as well. “Mind if I hang out here for a bit?”

“Definitely not.” Kian mumbled round a mouthful. “Be like old times.” He looked up. “I've got a date tonight, though.” He poked at his eggs. “Todd, from the video store.”

“Only you could go rent a movie and get a date.”

“It was Snakes on a Plane.” Kian shrugged, as if that explained everything. “Seemed nice.”

“The movie or the guy?”

“The guy.” Blue eyes sparkled. “Great arse. You know how I love a great arse.”

“Well, good luck.” Mark snorted, though he suspected this one was probably going to go the same way as the last one, and the one before that. He'd always felt a bit sorry for Kian, having all these disastrous boyfriends when Mark was in a great long-term relationship. He supposed he didn't have a leg to stand on with that one any more. He sighed, burying his head in his arms.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark swallowed down the lump building in his throat. “I miss him.”

“Oh, mate.” There was a clatter of cutlery being put down, then the sound of Kian's chair scraping over the kitchen tiles. Arms wrapped around him a second later. “I'm sorry.” He fell into the hug, felt a kiss brush over his hair, fingers beginning to stroke his back. He sniffed, trying to get a hold on himself. Not that he minded crying in front of Kian – they'd both seen each other fall apart on more than one occasion – but he had a feeling if he started he'd never stop.

“Sorry.” Mark managed. “I'm fine. I'm just...”

“It's fine.” Kian squeezed him. “I'm cancelling my date. We're going to eat ice-cream and watch Snakes on a Plane and have a cuddle, alright?”

“No, you have...”

“I'm cancelling.” The voice in his ear was firm. “He's borrowing his mother's car to pick me up, so let's just assume it was doomed from the start.” Mark had to laugh at that. Kian did know how to pick 'em. “You always take care of me when I'm miserable, so it's my turn.”

“I'm not miserable.” Mark lied. Kian snorted, kissing his forehead. “Thanks, Ki.”

“Definitely.” Kian pulled back to look at him, giving him the kind of smile that suggested that Mark probably looked terrible. “Come on.” He nudged Mark's plate closer towards him. “Get that down your neck. Some arsehole spent ages making it for you.”

“Thanks, Ki.” Mark said again, finding a laugh was tugging at his throat. “You're brilliant.” He kissed a slightly pale cheek. “What the hell would I do without you?”  
  
“Dunno.” Kian shrugged. “But let's not find out.”

 

*

 

Kian was going through his mail on the other end of the couch while Mark read the paper, their legs all tangled up in the middle. Mark wasn't sure when they'd started doing the physical closeness thing, but it had always felt sort of natural. They'd never fancied each other, never even kissed or anything. In their first terrible flat they'd shared a bed, had woken up more than once cuddled up together or with one of them draped over the other's chest, and after that it had seemed silly to try to dance around it.

It had pulled back when Mark had started dating Kevin. The comfort element didn't really apply to him any more when he had an actual boyfriend to do those things with, though he had felt bad for Kian at the time, seen him looking a bit left out when Mark was snuggling up with his boyfriend and Kian was on the tail end of another breakup or disappointing date.

The three of them had lived together for a bit, when they were still poor and Kevin had moved in. He'd only been twenty when they'd started going out, Mark almost twenty-four, and maybe that was it. Maybe they'd just grown in separate directions and hadn't wanted to admit it. Well, here he was less than two years out from thirty and it was time to start all over again.

Mark and Kian had been sitting in Kian's backyard drinking cocktails when they'd had the idea for the van.

Kian had seen this gorgeous run down Citroen van from the fifties advertised in the classifieds and the two of them were looking at it on Mark's laptop, talking about how it would be brilliant to do it up, make it look really classy. Then Mark had mentioned that it'd look cool as one of those food vans, like, and Kian had said 'ooh, yeah' and suddenly they'd been making enquiries, sat under a tree while Kian tried to dicker about the price over the phone.

Kian had always been good at organisation and business and stuff, and Mark liked cooking well enough, was always tinkering with recipes and things. So they'd just started doing it as a fun side-project, something to do together, maybe recapture a bit of that old closeness that had started to slip a bit as life got in the way, and within two months were doing their first gig at a local carnival, selling hot chocolate and crepes in between all the crappy hot dog and chip vans. It had done really well, a bit of class and novelty amongst all the deep-fried crap.

Within six months they were quitting their jobs and doing it full time. Mark was getting disillusioned with all the bureaucracy of teaching, and Kian was struggling being a roadie for hire while he tried to get the rock band he had been doing guitar for to actually practise instead of just fighting all the time.

“There's a jazz festival in Dalkey in a couple of weeks...” Mark peered at the events page, shaking the paper slightly to straighten out the wrinkles. “You want to hit that up?” Kian nodded, so he snagged his phone off the coffee table and began to look up the number. Kian tore open an envelope on the other end of the couch.

“Bill.” He tossed it on the coffee table, then began to make work on the next one while Mark called the events organiser. Within a few minutes he was promised a call back to confirm their booking. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“Ten years.” Kian snorted, turning the page around so Mark could see. He recognised their old high school letterhead straight away, mouth dropping open when he saw the word 'Reunion' in large block letters. “Can't believe it.”

“Shit.” Mark laughed. “Bloody hell. When's that?”

“Three weeks.” Kian turned it back around to read it. “All students graduating years 1997 and 1998. Fuck, has it been that long?”

“Weird.” Mark shook his head. “You wanna go?”

“Not really.” Kian passed it down for him to look at. “High school was shit. All I remember was getting treated like crap when whatserface caught me making out with her brother.”

“It was ten years ago.”

“Someone threw a stapler at my head.” Kian replied. “One time I found a note in my locker that said 'kill yourself, faggot'.” Mark nodded, looking away. It had been awful at the time. He supposed it was easier to forgot, considering it hadn't happened to him. “You were lucky you didn't come out until university. Nobody gave a shit there. I had to deal with the fucking farmer brigade.”

“One of the girls told me I should probably stop hanging out with you or people would think I was gay.”

“You should stop hanging out with me. People will think you're gay.”

“Thank god.” Mark laughed. “If people think I'm straight I'll never pick up.” He kicked Kian's foot affectionately, got a tentative smile back. “Fuck them. Let's stay here and be so gay they can hear it from Sligo.”

“I'll get the glitter, you get the showtunes.” Kian shot back, laughing. “You know who I heard's gay, though?”

“Who?”

“Do you remember Shane Filan?”

“No fucking way.” Mark exclaimed. “What, who used to go out with all the girls?”

“I know, that's what I said. Came out a couple of months back.”

“Huh.” Mark shook his head in disbelief. He remembered Shane well – they'd done a lot of the musicals and plays and things together in town. They'd always been friendly, though he'd already been at college when the debacle with Kian had started. “Wasn't he seeing your cousin?”

“Yeah, she was the one who told me.” Kian laughed. “Said it made sense, now she thought of it. Apparently the sex was a bit... unenthusiastic.” Mark began to giggle, trying to imagine it. He couldn't, it was too bloody weird. “Wonder if he'll be at the reunion.”

“I feel like we should have an initiation ceremony or something. Welcome him into the fold.”

“I dub thee Sir Filan, eater of dicks?”

“Something like that.” Mark grinned, looking over the flyer. It was pretty crappy, looked like it had been done on Word, with far too many conflicting fonts and rainbow lettering. “Mam's been asking when I'm coming home. Could be a good excuse.” And he sort of wanted to get out of Dublin, as silly as that sounded. It was too hard here, when everything reminded him of... “We could go up for the weekend, visit family. Then if we don't want to we can just go to the pub instead.”  
  
“No thank you.” Kian shook his head. “Go if you want but...” He shrugged, looking away. “No thanks.” Mark nodded, putting it aside. “Speaking of eating dicks, tell me the dirty details on last night. Was he a looker?”

“You saw him.”

“I was plastered. I couldn't see my own feet.” Kian pointed out. “Come on. You stumbled in pretty late, so I'm going to assume it was epic.”

“It was fine.” Mark shrugged, though a slow smirk was starting to spread over his mouth at the thought of it. “Good looking lad.”

“You tease.” Kian rolled his eyes. “Did you suck him? Fuck him? What?"

“Yes and yes.” Mark felt his cheeks go a little hot, but Kian whooped, reaching out to pat him on the knee in congratulations. “I don't know. He was in the middle of a breakup too so it was more a... a mutual comfort thing I think. Like, things are shit, you wanna fuck it out?”

“Did you?”

“Good start, I guess.” He slid down, resting his head against the armrest and stretching out until his feet were in Kian's lap. Thumbs started to knead the arches of his feet automatically and he smiled, wriggling his toes in thanks. “The sex was good, but now I'm still sad and lonely so I don't know there was much point.” He explained.

“Gonna see him again?”

“No.” Mark reached down, tickling Kian's foot. “It wasn't like that.”

“Okay.” Kian shrugged. “Well, I'm wrecked, so I'm gonna have a nap. Wake me if you need me.” He yawned, sliding down as well. Mark climbed over, laying down between his legs and resting his head on a soft stomach. Fingers drifted through his hair. “Night.” Kian murmured. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Ki.” Mark mumbled back, closing his eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Two strawberry, one chocolate banana...” Mark slid the paper plates over towards the window, watched Kian snag them and hand them out to the customer. He couldn't see them from here, had been working the hotplate all afternoon. It was a constant job, keeping an eye on the crepes cooking, shoving the fillings in while Kian took the orders and sorted out drinks. He glanced over again to see Kian handing out a couple of hot chocolates, dropping marshmallows in them.

It was a solid afternoon. Things were starting to calm down a bit now, as the weather got grey and damp, a light rain starting to fall. Not that Mark could see from the back of the van, but he could smell the metallic aroma of rain and seawater over the scent of frying batter.

Dalkey was nice. They'd driven up in the morning, Kian settled in the passenger seat and fiddling with the radio while the sea stretched grey and endless on their right.

The two of them had spent a lot of time together the last couple of weeks. Mark had crashed on Kian's couch more than once, and Kian had even come over to stay with him a couple of times, snuggling up in Kevin's spot in the bed and making the house feel a bit more alive. It was better than what he was doing on his own, staring into space and trying not to cry.

“I have to pee.” Kian announced. Mark nodded and took his place, his eye trained on the hotplate while Kian slid out the back of the van, yanking up his hood to cover against the rain.

There was no-one to serve. People were going inside, the weather starting to get worse. He was about to turn away, maybe start tidying up and calling it a day, when an umbrella stopped in front of his window.

“Hey, mate, can I get...” The voice stopped, and Mark blinked in surprise while Nicky let out a startled laugh.

“Hey.” He said, got a grin in return. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“And you.” Nicky looked up at the van. He looked nice, in a tailored jacket and skinny jeans. “I feel bad asking you for a crepe now.”

“That's what I'm here for.” Mark shrugged. “What can I get ya? On the house.”

“Well, if you're offering...” Nicky peered at the menu. “Hot chocolate with caramel and an apple-cinnamon?”

“Sure.” Mark leaned over, flipping a crepe off the stove and starting to put the ingredients together. “What you doing here, then?”

“Oh... my sister wanted to come and I wasn't doing anything.” Nicky tilted the umbrella back a little so they could see each other. “Look, about the other night...”

“Crazy, right?” Mark laughed awkwardly, got a smile in return. “I don't usually...”

“No, me either. Ehm...” Nicky scratched the back of his neck. “It was fun, though.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. He finished the crepe and handed it out, turning to make the hot chocolate.

“This is good.” Nicky's voice was muffled, and when Mark glanced back there was a bit of cream on his upper lip. As he watched, a pointed tongue flicked out and lapped it off. He felt himself harden, despite his best efforts, remembering only a few weeks before when that tongue had been lapping at his own, teasing him while they'd been rutting like idiots on Nicky's bed. “Thanks. You own the van, or?"

“Yeah. Well, me and a friend.” He nodded, stirring in the milk. “What do you do?”

“Oh... like painter decorator. Family business.” Nicky shrugged. “My dad, anyway. It pays the bills.”

“You don't like it?”

“It's fine.” Nicky took another bite of his crepe. “This is class, though.”

“Marshmallow?”

“Ooh, yeah.” Mark dropped it in, passing out the cup a moment later. Nicky took a sip. “Look... this is probably a stupid thing to say, but... the other night was fun. Do you want to like... hook up or... go get a coffee or something? One day? Maybe?”

“Oh.” Mark wasn't quite sure what to say to that. They'd fucked, he'd left. He wasn't exactly looking at getting into a dating situation. “Erm... I dunno. I just broke up with my ex so... Might be a bit soon?”

“Definitely. Yeah. Sorry.” Nicky nodded. “That's fair. Ehm... Well. Okay. Cool. Thanks for the...” He backed away a little. Kian was just coming back, Mark could see him coming out of the toilets. “Look, if you change your mind...” He stepped forward again, resting the cup up on the counter while he fumbled for a pen. “Here...” A phone number was scribbled down on one of the napkins they kept on the counter. “Call me. Not even for a date. Just, like, if you want a shag or something. No obligations.” He smiled, and Mark returned it, bewildered but a bit flattered. “See ya round.”

“Yeah.” Mark picked up the napkin, tucking it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Cool. Okay. Bye.” Nicky wandered off with a last wink over his shoulder. A second later the door to the van opened.

“Hey.” Kian said, climbing in. “What did I miss?”

 

*

 

Mark was sitting on the couch two days later when he finally called Nicky.

He hadn't intended to at all. But Kian was out on a date and he was feeling horribly sorry for himself, needed some sort of human contact if only to distract himself from staring at his own face in the reflection of a TV that wasn't even turned on. Hadn't been for long hours since he'd sat down, picked up the remote, and then totally lost the ability to give a crap.

Because shit, what was the fucking point?

He got up, tried to busy himself with jobs. Dishes, vacuuming. He was sorting out laundry when a folded napkin fell out of the pocket of his jeans.

He was dialling without even realising what he was doing. A minute later there was a husky voice on the other end and he was awkwardly explaining that it was Mark, that lad from the other night and if the offer was still open...

Nicky showed up an hour later with a bottle of Jack and a sexy pout on his face. Mark found some glasses and they sat on the couch chatting while Nicky took off his jacket and Mark necked his drink, feeling it burn all the way down his throat, swirling amongst the liquid apprehension in his belly.

“I don't know why I called.” He admitted. Nicky smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “You know when everything just sucks?”

“I really do.” Nicky snorted. “It's cool. I was feeling a bit like a fuckhead for the other day, actually. So I'm glad you did.”

“Yeah.” He liked Nicky, for some reason. The guy had an ease about him, a sort of innate coolness like for some reason Mark wanted to impress him without knowing a damn thing about him. “How long you been broken up?”

“I dunno. Not that long.” Slender shoulders hitched in a shrug. “It wasn't like one moment, we just kept drifting apart. I'm not even sure if we are broken up or if we just haven't seen each other in a while.” He drained his glass, then reached for the bottle again. “Suppose it's the same thing, in the end.”

“That sucks.”

“It's fine. I though it was real, you know? We've only been together a few years. But we don't live together and I feel like we sort of should by now, you know? Like I keep getting put off. I haven't even met his parents yet.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. I don't know. I don't like being kept around. If it's not serious, let's be honest and we can just be casual. If it is, it's gotta actually be serious. I wanted him to meet my family but he doesn't want to do that either, so it's like what's the point? I spoke to him a few days ago, but before that it had been about a week. After two years... I dunno. I think it's actually over this time. I lost it a bit on the phone. Haven't spoken to him since. Anyway, that's depressing. What about you?”

“Together five years.” Mark shrugged. “Broken up... three weeks? I guess I saw it coming, but I don't think I quite expected...” His hands floated while he tried to find the words. “You know when you take for granted that he's just going to calm down and come back?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn't.” Mark sighed. “Plus I'm almost certain he was cheating on me.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Is it ridiculous that I'm still sort of waiting for him to come back?”

“No.” Fingers wrapped gently around his. “You want another drink?”

“Please.” He held out his glass, watched it fill up. “I feel really weird saying this, but what happens now? You want to like, watch a movie or... I dunno. Are we just going to have sex now?”

Nicky laughed. “I don't mind. What movies have you got?”

“Erm...” Mark glanced at the DVDs scattered across the coffee table, mingled in with a week or so's worth of crap from not tidying properly. “Dunno. 300...”

“Romantic.” Nicky laughed. “It's cool.” He necked his drink, then stood up. “Where's your bathroom?” Mark pointed, and Nicky nodded, disappearing down the hall.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to think.

He liked Nicky. Nicky was nice. Nicky was the kind of guy he'd probably try to pick up in a bar if he'd been single. Which he was, he supposed, but not remotely ready for another relationship. But they were about to have sex again, and if last time was anything to go by it'd probably be pretty great sex. Pretty excellent sex, actually.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he realised he'd been so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard the toilet flush.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He pushed hair back from his face, trying to think. The hand squeezed, and he looked around, got a kind smile that managed to be impossibly cheeky as well.

“Show me your bedroom.” Nicky urged quietly. Mark nodded, standing up.

 

*

 

“Yes...” Nicky was gasping, writhing slowly on the bed while Mark went down on him, licking carefully up the shaft while the other boy whimpered, hips rocking towards Mark's mouth.

Nicky tasted good. Felt good, big and swollen in his mouth while he slowly slid fingers into him. It felt strangely easy, this, making someone else respond. Had felt good kissing him on the bed, the two of them making out without any urgency until Mark had felt Nicky hard against him, grinding stiffness sending a sudden thrill through him when Nicky had moaned softly and caught his lips again, Mark beginning to slide down, wanting the feel of it.

“Please...” Fingers were curling gently into his hair while he forced lower, swallowing around the head and feeling the slow roll of the body beneath him. “Oh...” Hips jerked slightly, uncontrolled, and Mark found himself laughing, a rolling flush of pride swelling through him when he realised he was making Nicky respond like that, make those noises. It was a good feeling, hearing breathless moans and knowing the same mouth wasn't going to be spilling hurtful accusations, that this wasn't some comma to break up a fight.

He slid two fingers a little deeper, heard Nicky's breath hitch, and then the man beneath him was rocking, crying out and pushing down into the touch.

“Right there...” Nicky gasped. “Yes...”

He came a second later, filling Mark's mouth until he swallowed without thinking. Not meaning to, just feeling his mouth flood and doing what came naturally. What had come naturally, until he realised this wasn't his boyfriend. This was some stranger. He sat back up, wiping his mouth while Nicky panted on the bed.

“Jesus.” Nicky vacant grin was broken by a wince when Mark's fingers drew out. Then Mark was crawling back up, laughing when Nicky grabbed him and rolled on top, kissing him breathlessly.

 

*

 

“That's it...” Nicky's voice was low, soothing, his hand holding Mark still while he pushed in slowly. This was new, as far as positions went, but god it felt fantastic already, laid on his side while Nicky bent over him. It felt odd going sideways, but it was making his skin sizzle, prickling along his nerves and curving in a way that was utterly delicious. He heard himself moan, grabbed at the pillows to get his bearings while his cock was trapped between his thighs, his balls tight and rubbing with every slow push.

“Oh...” His hand clawed at the pillow again. “Yes... oh god... Nicky...”

He pushed a little deeper, and Mark seemed to be feeling every inch, spreading him wide while kisses brushed over his cheek, down his neck, tingling and spreading warmth. There was a soft growl in his ear and he shivered, heard Nicky moan.

“So tight...” It was a low, wondering breath. He reached between his thighs, needing some pressure. Felt a hand join his, Nicky biting gently at his ear while he thumbed over the head, their fingers linking and beginning to stroke. “Do you feel good?”

“Yes...” Mark gasped, trying to push awkwardly down and into their joined hands at the same time. “I...” Something moved, then, and he cried out, arching beneath Nicky's hands. His mouth was caught, the kiss messy and wet while they breathed each other in, Nicky beginning to move slowly, hips rocking sharply at the end of careful thrusts. Mark didn't know what to do with himself, trying to push back but not able to get purchase on his side like this and feeling helpless as a tongue started to fuck his mouth to the same rhythm, their hands still moving.

“So sexy...” Nicky was moving harder now, but still slow, so slow, while Mark tried to speed up the pace of their grip, feeling a thumb caress him. “Gonna do this for hours...”

“Can't...” He arched again, cried out Nicky's name, heard a soft chuckle. “Too good...”

“Mmm...” The hand on him slowed down even more and he whimpered in protest, trying to spit himself down. “I've been thinking about this. Thinking about this fucking arse...” A hand drifted over it, squeezing hard and promising. “All I wanted to do was fuck it again.”

“Unh...” He twisted. God, that was a good feeling, knowing someone wanted him, even if it was just some guy he'd met at a club. That someone was thinking about him like that. He didn't know that he deserved it, but the idea was intoxicating, the way Nicky was growling in his ear like he couldn't stop himself. “Feel amazing...”

“Yeah.” Nicky bit up his neck. “You do.” He jerked, suddenly, hissing, and Mark realised he'd squeezed without meaning to, his whole body rolling into the feeling of Nicky spreading him. “Don't or it'll be over too soon...” Nicky chuckled, his hand speeding up the stroke. “So sexy...” He murmured, hips moving faster. “Want you.”

Mark moaned, grabbing harder at the pillows while Nicky panted into his ear.

 

*

 

When he woke up it had just gone dawn and there was an arm across his chest, the sunlight throwing warm stripes across them through the blinds. Nicky stirred next to him, fingers clenching over his heart, snuffling into Mark's neck.

Mark needed to pee.

He slid out, ducked into the bathroom, and when he came out in his robe Nicky's eyes were half-open and he was yawning to himself.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky smiled, stretching happily. “Sorry. Fell asleep, I guess.”

“It's cool.” Mark leant in the doorway to look at him. He was gorgeous, all slender and pale, slightly muscular in a way that said he probably was more of a runner than a weight-lifter. “I'm gonna make breakfast. You want some pancakes?”

“Sure.” Nicky grinned, sitting up. “I have to be off by nine though.”

“No bother.” Mark nodded. “I'll get started if you want a shower or anything.”

“Sounds good.” Nicky was already getting up, and as Mark passed him on the way out the door a hand tangled gently in his hair, tugging him into a slow kiss. When it parted, finally, Nicky winked. “Morning.” He smirked.

“Morning.” His hair was let go and Nicky disappeared into the bathroom a moment later.

He found himself whistling while he sorted out the breakfast. There was something really nice about waking up next to someone, having someone to do things for. Someone who wasn't Kian, of course. He shifted slightly as he moved, feeling sore and used, loving feeling that way after so long without.

“Syrup?” He asked, as he heard footsteps hit the bottom of the stairs.

“Love some, thank you.” The chair behind him scraped out, and when he turned Nicky was looking at the sports section of yesterday's paper. Mark slid a plate in front of him, collapsing down into the other chair. “This is nice.” Nicky said, his voice muffled by food. “You always been able to cook?”

“Sort of.” Mark shrugged. “Like, I could make basic stuff, but when we bought the van I guess I found out a had a bit of a knack for it. It just started as a weekend thing, you know? We were going to do it up for fun, sell it on, but then we thought it might be a cool side-project for a bit of money. It sort of took off from there. Sorry, that wasn't actually the question, was it?” He laughed bashfully, poking at his food. “Yeah, I've always been able to cook okay.”

“Is it much of a money earner?”

“We do okay.” He took a bite, trying to stop syrup dripping down his shirt. “We do two or three gigs a week and that's a profit. Go to a few of the weekend markets. Last month we did a wedding reception.”

“What, with crepes?”

“Yeah. It was cute, like a hundred people in the park, sort of intimate, like a big party. We do other stuff, like pita breads and waffles or whatever. We're licensed, so some champagne and all that as well.”

“See, that's cool.” Nicky shoveled up another bite. “I wish I could do that. Like... quit my job and do something on my own.”

“It's hard.” Mark admitted. “The first year or so we were barely making ends meet. Kevin had to...” He stopped, realising he'd been about to mention how he'd basically been supported through the whole thing, how his boyfriend had paid more than his share of the bills.

Then how he'd not exactly let that go. Had been bitching about supporting him even as he'd been walking out the door, like he hadn't offered at the time. Like he hadn't been the one to tell him to quit his job, that if this was what he wanted to do then of course he should do it. Like he hadn't been cheering him on through the whole thing and then suddenly changed his mind the moment they actually started to get successful and Mark had been on the road more, hanging out with Kian.

“You okay?”

“I'm okay.” He poked idly at his pancakes. “Sorry.” He looked up. “Anyway.”

“Yeah.” Nicky reached for a napkin, wiping off his fingers. “I have to get going.” Mark nodded. Of course. God, he was captain fucking depressing, boring the crap out or some guy who was just here for a lay anyway. “Thanks for last night.” Nicky stood up. “And breakfast.” He bent over, and Mark smiled when he felt a kiss touch to his forehead. “You free on Tuesday night?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, surprised. “Why?”

“Dunno, just... I have a night off and I wouldn't mind the company.” A smile flickered across Nicky's face. “Wanna go get some food?”

“I...” The idea stopped him in his tracks. This was supposed to be a shag. He didn't even know Nicky. He liked him for some reason, though. “I don't know.” He said honestly. “I'm not really up for dating.”

“Nothing like that. Just food. A movie. Hang out.” Nicky shrugged. “Believe me, dating's not something I'm doing either, not until I get my shit sorted out.” A hand patted Mark's shoulder. “It's cool. Call me on Monday if you want to, okay? If I don't hear from you we'll just let it go.” He headed for the door, and Mark stood to follow, for some reason not wanting to let the other man out of his sight sooner than he had to.

“Well... thanks for last night, I guess.” Mark said as the front door opened. It was going to be a chilly one, was looking grey already. Nicky pulled his jacket a little tighter. “Maybe I'll see you.”

“Maybe you will.” Nicky winked. “Look, if we don't, can I tell you something?” Mark nodded. “You give excellent blowjobs.”

“Oh.” Mark felt himself go pink. “Thank you?”

“Thank you.” Nicky laughed. “Keep doing what you're doing and I'm sure you'll land a fella soon. Thanks for last night.” A kiss brushed his mouth, fingers sliding momentarily through his hair. “See ya.”

He jogged down the steps, leaving Mark stood in surprise in the doorway until he was out of sight.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Kian had laughed out loud when Mark told him he'd shagged Nicky again, even louder when he'd mentioned what Nicky had said on the way out. He was still giggling about it now, kept turning to smirk at Mark in between customers. They were set up near the pier, a good weekend spot for tourists and families, especially on a sunny day like today.

“Reunion's in a few days.” Mark commented. The two of them were chopping up more fruit during a rare lull, the stovetop empty while they waited for more customers. “We're not going?”

“You can if you want.” Kian shrugged. “I'm not interested. It's not that I object, I just don't see what the point is.”

“No, it's no fun if you're not going.” Mark leaned in to nuzzle his cheek gently, got an affectionate elbow in the side. “Who am I going to talk to? That wanker who shoved me into the showers in highschool?”

“That was me.”

“I know. But I'm already talking to you.” Mark smiled. “You were an arsehole.”

“I really was.” Kian laughed. “Sorry.”

“It's fine.” Mark paused. “You ever think maybe all those arseholes aren't arseholes any more either?”

“Who cares, though?” Kian pushed the banana he was dicing aside and grabbed another. “It doesn't mean I want to hang out with people who maybe aren't arseholes any more. Why bother? The only reason people go to those things is because they haven't moved on, or because they _have_ moved on and want to rub it in people's faces.”

“Which one are we?”

“We're not. We've moved on and we're doing fine. I don't care if some wanker I saw ten years ago knows or not. I don't care what they're doing, why should they care what I'm doing?"

“True.” Mark nodded. “Hey, how did your date go?”

“Fine.” Kian shrugged. “We had a meal, we went home.”

“And?”  
  
“And that was it.” Kian sighed, beginning to tub up the diced banana he was working on. Mark began to do the same with his strawberries, glancing out the window in case there was a customer coming. “He was nice, but there was no... I don't know. Thing. Spark, I guess. I feel like maybe all the good guys are already taken.”

“I'm not.” Mark joked.

“Exactly. All the good guys are taken.” Kian teased. “I haven't had a shag in weeks. It's depressing. But then I don't think I just want a shag, because that's just another pointless time-waster when I could be meeting a proper guy.”

“You looking to settle?”

“I don't know. I'm getting old.”

“You're twenty-eight.”

“I'm gay. That's ancient.” Kian sighed. Mark laughed, turning round to get the stove started up again.

“You're fine. You're cute. I'm just old and depressing.”

“You're the one who gives excellent blowjobs.” Kian pointed out. “That'll give you an edge at least.” A hand touched his shoulder and Mark squeezed it, his other hand beginning to pour batter onto the hotplate. “I'm curious now. What's your secret?”

“Dunno. I like doing it, so that probably helps.”

“Yeah. I don't mind it, I guess.” He heard clattering as Kian started to stack the tubs of fruit carefully at the side. “It's not my favourite.”

“You don't like giving head?”

“I like getting it more.” Mark shook his head, smiling. “I don't know. It's a means to an end. My favourite thing is fingering the guy. That's something I'm really good at.”

“Humble.”

“Shut up.” Kian laughed. “What's your favourite thing in bed then?”

“To do to someone or have done to me?”

“Both.”

“Um...” If anybody else asked this question Mark would be blushing furiously and giving him a slap. But it was Kian. Kian had seen him throw up down himself, cry hysterically when he was drunk. He'd caught Kian jerking off once when they'd been living together. Propriety was a non-issue. “Favourite thing to do... I do like giving head, that's nice. When you're really playing someone and you can taste them almost ready to come. It's a power thing, maybe. Knowing you're making someone else feel like that.”

“Well now you're making me want to suck someone off.” Kian smirked. “And your favourite thing to get done to you?”

“Dunno. Depends on the guy.” Mark bit his lip, trying to think. “I'll go mad if I'm getting fucked and he hits just the right angle. Like, right there and hitting it every time and it's just... yum. What do you like?"

“I don't get eaten out very often.” Kian shrugged. “So it always feels like a bit of a treat. I'm a big whore for getting a lad's mouth on me. Like, you nibble behind my ear, scrape some teeth down my neck or something, I'm done. This guy used to absolutely go to town. Like, he'd start at my toes and work his way up and I'd just be in bits by the time he got halfway up my legs. Would fuck my hipbones with his tongue. It was the hottest fucking thing.”

“Which one was that?”

“Lucero. The Paraguayan backpacker. Barely spoke English, but god...” Kian smiled, looking like he was drifting a little on the memory. “He always smelled amazing.”

“How many guys do you reckon you've slept with?”

“I don't know.” Kian shrugged. “It's not that I go out looking for a lay or anything, I just... You know when you catch someone's eyes and you just know you're a bit in love? Not getting married having kids love, but just that... thing. Where you know you have to have them or you might die a little bit?”

“So you're a romantic.”

“It's better than being a tart.” Kian laughed. “No. I think I've only ever loved one boy in my whole life and it's you.”

“Aw...” Mark bent in, kissing him on the cheek. “I'm flattered.” Kian laughed, shoving him away. “Though considering everything lately, we could probably do worse.”

“I'm not dating you. You're a pain in the arse.” Kian retorted. Mark shook his head.

“Yeah, I get that feeling.” The lump settling into his throat seemed to be more or less permanent. “He said pretty much the same thing when he walked out. You know, mixed in with useless, mean, and not worth the fucking time.”

“Fucker.” An arm came around his waist and Mark shook his head, knowing if he was comforted he'd probably fall apart again. “Remind me to beat the shit out of him.”

“It's fine. He was probably right.” Mark shrugged. “Is it silly that the best thing that's happened to me in the last few weeks is waking up with that guy still being there? I knew that it wasn't going anywhere, I knew it was just a fuck, but at least it was someone choosing to be there. With me. You know?”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. “I know the feeling.” He leaned forward on the counter. “Want to get drunk tonight?”

“I really do.” Mark nodded. He'd already decided not to call Nicky tonight. Had thought about it, but it was too much like doing something he didn't feel like he could commit to. They'd go out, they'd shag, and it would be nice. Then they'd probably do it again. Then eventually they'd start wondering what it was all about, and they'd either stop or make something official of it, and then Mark would have to start all over again or sink into a relationship, which he didn't feel like doing right now. It all felt too complicated, like having to figure things out when he was still trying to figure himself out.

“Cool. Well, I'm seeing Angus again tonight, but I should be home by nine or so if you want me to come round?”

“Don't cut it short for me.”

“It's fine. It wasn't going anywhere anyway, but he already paid for the movie tickets so I might as well go.”

“Romantic.”

“Yeah.” Kian laughed. “It's not...” He trailed off, and then Mark heard him swear, saw hands tighten slightly on the edge of the counter.

“What?”

“Stay there.” Kian instructed. “It's fine. Just thought I saw some guy I knew.” Mark began to edge over, curious. A hand touched on his chest, holding him back. “Seriously don't worry. The crepes are going to burn. Get back to it.”

“They're fine. What are you...?” Mark ducked his head out, ignoring Kian nudging him, not sure what was going on. “Who are you looking... oh.” He stopped, felt his whole body become a block of ice, frozen and numb, mouth falling open as everything collapsed a little bit.

“Mark...”

“Fuck.” He whispered.

Kevin.

Getting snogged rather enthusiastically at the end of the pier.

Kian pushed him back, but Mark shoved him away.

“Shit.” He ran a hand over his eyes, sure he could erase the view. Kian's hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him back into the van. He sat down heavily on the stool in the back corner, feeling his heart hit the floor. “Fuck.”

“I'm sorry.” Kian said quietly, crouching down in front of him. “I didn't want you to see...”

“It's fine.” Mark swallowed hard. “It's fine. We're broken up, right? Except that's the _fucker_ from his _fucking work_.” He kicked the wall, feeling his throat close. “Cheating fucking _arsehole.”_

“Fucker.” Kian agreed savagely. Mark was pulled into a hug a second later, arms wrapping around him. “You want me to go push him onto the rocks?”

Mark laughed bitterly, felt a kiss touch his forehead.

“No. I don't know.” He sobbed, just once, burying his head in Kian's shoulder, throat burning. His chest felt like it was in a vice. Hands stroked gently over his back. “Fucker.”

“Yeah.” Kian murmured. “Come on. Let's close up shop and go home, okay?” Mark shook his head.

“I'm not running away.”

“Marky...” Fingers kneaded soothingly at the back of his neck. “We can leave. There's nothing wrong with that.”

“Only if we can run him over on the way out.” Mark growled, heard a laugh in his ear. “No. Let's make some fucking crepes or something.” He stood up, stepping over to the stove. The ones on the plate were already burning, so he scraped them off and into the bin, reaching purposefully for the batter. He began to pour, feeling an arm settle around his waist. A kiss touched his neck.

“Okay.” Kian said quietly, letting go and going back to the window. He could still see Kevin, Mark knew he could, because when he turned around Kian was staring pointedly in that direction, eyes narrowed like he was trying to set him on fire.

“Ki?” 

“Yeah.” Kian's gaze didn't move. Mark smiled, reaching out to touch his hand.

“Thanks.”

“You bet.” Kian leaned on the counter. “Ferry just landed full of tourists.” He commented, leaning forward on the counter. “Let's make some fucking money.”

 

*

 

Mark was on the couch in his pyjamas, looking through pictures on his laptop. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this to himself, but he'd opened his fourth beer about five minutes before so that probably had something to do with it. He took a sip, clicking through a slideshow of photos from their holiday to Paris, the two of them smiling at the camera even though it had been a pretty terrible experience all over. A last ditch attempt at a bit of romance when they'd spend the whole time bickering and blaming each other for stupid things like misreading the map and not packing the phone charger.

Mark paused on a picture of the two of them, arms around each other in front of the Eiffel Tower. Painfully cliché, like a stock photo of a happy couple. His finger hovered for a second, and then he clicked down on the delete button, feeling a sudden thrill of panic when the trashcan appeared on the screen.

He stared at it for a minute, not sure how he felt. A bit drunk, obviously, but at the same time... not too bad. Like a little weight had lifted off his back. He clicked through to the next one, looking at a shot of Kevin wearing Mickey Mouse ears at Euro Disneyland.

Delete.

Delete delete delete.

Halfway through he realised there were tears rolling down his cheeks. He knocked back the rest of his beer and shut the laptop, not able to go any further. Knowing, despite himself, that the photos weren't really gone, were just sitting in the recycling bin waiting for him to delete them permanently. He couldn't do it. Couldn't fucking...

Fuck him. Fuck him being fucking happy.

Before he knew it he was picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Nicky? It's Mark.”

“Oh. Hey.” He could hear a slight smile in Nicky's voice. “What's up?”

“Just... you know how you said you were free tomorrow night?”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “Shit. I'm sorry, mate. I'm gonna have to cancel. Something came up.”

“Oh.” Mark felt his heart compress into a small black ball. “Well... maybe next week then, or?”

“I... yeah. I'm sorry but... I can't. I... god, I'm really sorry but... look, my fella called and... I think it's back on, you know? I'm really sorry. Shit.” Nicky did sound sorry, but that didn't help things. He felt his cheeks flush with sudden embarrassment, wanted to throw up for some reason. Everyone else was fucking sorted, apparently. Kevin. Nicky. Shit, Kian was out on a date as well. God, he was fucking pathetic.

“Oh. No. That's cool.” He managed. “Congratulations, I guess.”

“Thanks. I really am sorry. I like you, but... I don't know. They reel us in every time, you know?” There was a soft laugh on the other end. “It was fun. Thanks for the other night.”

“No. Yeah.” Mark pursed his lips, not sure what to say. “Well... okay. Bye.” He hung up without waiting for a response, not sure he could hold himself together until then. The phone landed on the coffee table, and he pushed his laptop aside, not able to look at it. Buried his face in his hands, trying to think past the blur of tears.

He was still sitting there an hour later when Kian knocked on the door.

 

*

  
“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. Really.” Mark looked up from where his head was rested in Kian's lap. Fingers were carding slowly though his hair, pausing every now and then to untangle a knot. It was sort of nice, a little bit relaxing after the night he'd had so far. “It's just a lot of shit at once. I don't even know why I'm upset. It was just a fuck.”

“I get it.” Kian smiled. “I can run him over too, if you like?”

“Thanks.” Mark laughed. “But if you get nicked for randomly murdering my exes I'll have no one to complain to.”

“Then where would we be?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I think...” He'd been thinking about this a lot in the last couple of days, had been trying not to entertain it because it felt too much like running away, but... “I might go home for a few days. See my parents and that. There's just too much going on here, especially after today. I feel like I can't get away from it. It's the house, it's everything. I don't know.” He looked up. “Sorry. I'll stay for the gig tomorrow and then I might drive home for the weekend.”

“It's fine.” Kian nodded. “You want me to come? Road trip?”

“You said you didn't want to go home.”

“I said I didn't want to go to the reunion. I'm still happy to go see my family and that if you want. It'll be like old times. Except we don't have a tape deck.”

“We only had one tape and it was stuck in the player.”

“It was quality.”

“It was Nine Inch Nails.”

“Like I said, it was quality.” Kian laughed. “It's fine, I've got the album on my iPod.”

“Thank god for that.” Mark teased. He got an affectionate grin. “Okay. Road trip.”

“Grand.” A kiss touched his forehead. “We'll load up my car in the morning, do the job until we've got a bit of spending money, then run back here and head off. You want another drink?”

“I'm okay.” Mark stretched, then sat up, leaning into Kian's shoulder. “Thinking about bed soon.”

“Sounds like a plan.” An arm came around his back. “I'll stay if you like.”

“Thanks.” He was already starting to get sleepy, his eyes drifting closed. “Love you.”

“I know.” Lips pressed gently to his temple. “Come on.”

 

*

 

Kian was talking to his mother in the passenger seat, phone to his ear while he looked out the window. Mark had offered to do the drive up, feeling like he needed a little control over something, even if it was just his hands on the wheel. Kian didn't seem to mind, it gave him more time to play with the radio, which had been switched to about five different stations before Kian announced they were all crap and hooked his iPod up.

They were blasting Guns N Roses on the motorway when Kian stretched, reached under the seat, and pulled out a bag of Minstrels.

“Chocolate?”

“Yes please.” His hand was filled with chocolate and he lifted it to his mouth a second later, stuffing it all in. “What would I do without you?”

“Be way less cool, probably.”

“I'm not cool.”

“Can you imagine what you'd be like if I didn't have me, though?” Kian teased. “Shit, we would destroy at reunion. 'What do you do?' 'We own a food van and are slightly more cool' 'Well, congratulations, you are not the least successful people here!'” Mark laughed.

“We're successful.”

“It doesn't sound like it when you lay it out like that.”

“We own our own business, we're financially secure.” He pointed out. “We're doing something we both like and making money, and we get to hang out together. You want to put on a suit every day so you can say you're a success? That sounds awful.” He reached over, patting Kian's thigh. “'What do you do?' 'I hang out with my best friend every day and go to at least one carnival a month – and I usually get a discount on the rides.' 'Holy shit, where do I sign up?'”

“True.” Kian snorted. “Thanks, Romy, I was wondering if we should pretend to invent post-its.”

“No problem, Michele.” Mark rolled his eyes. “We could still make our own clothes.”

“Oh god. No. I'm not letting you dress me.” Guns N Roses finished and Kian flicked through his playlist, snatches of songs blurting as he skipped past them. Green Day started up and he settled back, looking over at Mark. “I wonder who's still cute. I wonder who's lost their hair.”

“We're not going, though.”

“I know. Just for the sake of argument. Who did you fancy in high school?”

“Dunno. Nobody, really.” He chewed his lip, trying to think while he navigated through the narrower streets of the village they were passing through. A few seconds later they were out the other side, the motorway stretching ahead of them. “Tell you what, that P.E. teacher we had in fifth year. Phwoar.”

“Mr Bennett? Shit yeah. God, he'd do squats and I couldn't cope. Those fucking white shorts.” They both sniggered, Kian's head tipping back against the headrest. “Once he was up a ladder fixing the basketball net and I swear to god I saw ball. It was magical.”

“Like seeing a unicorn.”

“Better. Fuck. You've no idea. If I ever wanted to be sure I was gay, that was it. That was the moment.”

“The gym teacher's balls?”

“Ball. Singular. If there'd been two I would have exploded in my pants.” Mark laughed out loud, the mental image too much. “Too bad he was married.”

“And also a teacher, and also an adult.”

“Don't ruin it. Maybe we should go, just to see if he's there.”

“He's probably, like, forty-five, though.”

“I don't care. You never forget your first love.” Kian affected a winsome sigh, staring out the window. “What was your moment? Did you have an 'oh my god, cocks are amazing' moment?"

“I don't know.” Mark admitted. “I think I came to it a bit late. It was funny, because we'd been friends ages and I didn't mind that you were gay. I didn't have a problem with it. It was just that I didn't want to be gay myself. You remember how hard I fought it at the beginning there.” Kian nodded. “Maybe that's why I liked you in the first place. Living vicariously, sort of thing, without having to admit to what I was.”

“But you're brilliant at being gay.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “I guess I wasn't sure until Kevin. I slept with a couple of lads, told myself it was just experimenting or whatever, and then... I dunno. When he moved in I couldn't exactly pretend any more.” He shrugged, feeling that familiar tightness in his chest whenever he thought of it. “So it was probably him.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up.”

“It's fine.” Mark shifted, peering out the windscreen to distract himself. “I did fancy that lad in the year below for a bit. Blonde... on the football team? Can't remember his name for the life of me.”

“Doesn't ring a bell.” A hand patted his knee. “I remember having a little crush on Shane Filan at the time. He was older, he was an amazing singer... I could have hit that at the time if he'd been gay.”

“Now's your chance.”

“No thanks. Considering my track record, it'd just fuck up a perfectly good thing. We'll keep that one in the wank bank.” Kian tossed another handful of chocolates in his mouth. “Frankly, I feel like I don't even want to go after guys I actually like because I know it'll just wreck things. At this point I figure if I go after guys that are just okay at least it won't be so awful when we split up.”

“That's pessimistic.”

“Probably.” Mark held out his hand, and a few more chocolates were tipped into it. “Probably a good thing the two of us never hooked up. It'd be a disaster.”

“What, you and me?”

“Yeah.” Kian smirked. “We wouldn't still be friends, I know that much.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'm terrible at relationships.”

“You're terrible at picking boyfriends. You're lovely, you just have bad taste.”

“Thank you.”

“Very welcome.” Mark laughed. “I'd like to say I'd be an excellent boyfriend, but if the last few years has proven anything it's probably not true.”

“It wasn't your fault.” Kian squeezed his knee, and silence fell for a long moment. “Can I tell you something?”

“If you like.”

“You have to promise you're not going to get upset.”

“I can't promise that.” Mark glanced over, intrigued. “What's up?”

“I just...” Kian bit his lip. “I never liked him.”

“Sorry, what?” Mark's mouth dropped open, his hands loosening in surprise on the steering wheel. “Liked who?”

“Kevin. Never liked him.”

“What? He lived with us!”

“I just...” Kian sighed. “I don't know. I liked that he made you happy, and I wouldn't have said anything but... honestly? I thought you could do better. He never seemed to appreciate you enough.” Mark shook his head, not sure what to say to that. “I'm sorry. But even when we were living together it always seemed like he took you for granted.”

“Wow.” There was a service station coming up on their left and Mark pulled in, realising his hands were shaking and needing a minute to collect himself from that rather unexpected revelation. He parked, turned to look at Kian, who was chewing his lip nervously. “You hated my boyfriend.” He said flatly.

“I didn't _hate_ him.” Kian sighed. “I never hated him. I liked him okay as a person. I just never saw it. You never felt quite right for each other and I was always worried he wasn't treating you properly. Like... even when you were dating he'd just cancel dates at the last minute and I'd see you getting ready for hours and then look so fucking upset when you got the phone call. But you were never angry and it kind of pissed me off, because he knew you weren't mad at him, and then he'd just do it again. And then when you moved out, every time I saw you together he just felt... patronising. Like you were wrong and he liked correcting you. I didn't like it.”

“Fuck.” Mark crossed his arms over the steering wheel, burying his face in them and closing his eyes, trying to block out the sudden rush of anger and emotion. A hand landed gently on his shoulder. He thought about shaking it off, and then couldn't be bothered.

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” His hand was fumbling for the handle and then he was out, the air cold on his skin while he stalked across the parking lot, running fingers through his hair and trying to think. He stopped on the grass nearby, leaning against a tree.

Fuck.

The irritating thing was that Kian was fucking right. Of course he was fucking right. It had been one of their biggest issues, the fact that it was always taken for granted that he was the one to apologise, to bend over backwards because Kevin wasn't happy. And then when he was unhappy it was his own fault, for not being understanding enough, for not being the one to lie back and take it, for taking things too fucking seriously.

He stood there for a long time, staring into nothing with his arms crossed over his chest, trying to swell back the rage and sorrow and disappointment and wishing that just for a minute he could be angry at Kian and not at himself.

He saw Kian step from the car out of the corner of his eye, was all ready to tell him to fuck off the moment he came over. Instead he watched as his oldest friend filled the car with petrol then disappeared into the service station. A few minutes later he came out, climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door.

Mark looked down at his feet, wishing he could think of something to say. To himself. To Kian. To that fucking arsehole.

He was about to go back to the car when he heard the sound of Mariah Carey drifting across the parking lot.

He smiled to himself, thinking that was kind of cool that the petrol station was playing one of his favourite songs, then Kian wound down the window and he realised it was coming from inside the car. A blonde head leaned on the sill, blue puppy-dog eyes staring out. By the time he found the energy to walk back to the car it was hitting the last chorus.

“Hey.” Kian said.

“Hey.” Mark opened the door and slid inside, realising the radio was still hooked up to Kian's iPod. The screen had a picture of the Music Box cover art displayed. “Since when do you have this on here?”

“Ripped it to my computer when we still lived together.” Kian smiled. “Figured it was your favourite, I should have a copy just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Dunno. In case.” Kian shrugged, hands tapping on the steering wheel. “I'm really sorry. I didn't mean that to come off the way it did.”

“How did you mean it?”

“I don't know. I think what I was trying to say was... it wasn't your fault you broke up. He wasn't good enough for you and I feel like as much as it sucks now, this is good. Like it opens things up for you to find the one. The actual one. Because you deserve it. He didn't deserve you.”

“Kian...” He leaned back in the passenger seat. The song changed and he laughed, looking down at the iPod. “Wow, you really have the whole thing on here.” Kian nodded, shrugging like it was obvious. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Would you have listened?”

“No.” Mark admitted. “Probably not.”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah.” Mark sighed, leaning over to give his friend a hug. A hand clapped his back, then stroked gently down his spine. He lay his head on a strong shoulder, feeling like he was about ready to cry and not wanting to. Not wanting to start. A kiss brushed his temple. “You were right. He took advantage. And the sad thing was I didn't mind. Not at first."

“I know the feeling.” Kian sighed. “Men, right? Fuckers.”

“All of them. I know.” Mark felt another kiss touch his cheek and bured his face in Kian's neck to hide his flushed face. “God, I'm an idiot.”

“You're fine.” Kian pulled away, then leaned over into the backseat, coming back with a plastic bag. “Here.” He thrust it into Mark's hands. “Thought you could use some snacks.”

Mark peered inside. “Nutella?” There were about thirty single serves in there, rattling around the bottom of the bag. “Thanks.” He laughed, reaching in to grab one, the foil packaging peeled off a second later. “You want one?”

“Sure.” Kian took one, then reached down beside his seat. A cold can was pressed into Mark's free hand. “Here.”

“Lemon Fanta?” He didn't know which one to attack first. “Thank you.”

“Definitely.” An uncertain smile was turned his way and Mark felt himself relax a little. “Thought you'd like some comfort food.”

“Ki...” He couldn't hug Kian with his hands full, so he leaned in, kissing a cheek that was a little rough with stubble. “You're the best.”

“Obviously.” The kiss was returned. Kian pulled away, tucking the unopened Nutella into the cup holder next to his drink. “You ready to get this show on the road?”

“Yeah.” Mark leaned back in his seat. “Let's do this.”

 

*

 

It was dark when he was finally dropped off. Kian helped him get his bag out of the car, gave him a hug, and then climbed back in. Mark stood for a moment until he rounded the corner, then went to knock on the door.

His mother answered. He got a hug straight away, and was asked if Kevin was with him before he'd even put down his bag. So there was awkward conversation number one.

She was good about it. Everyone was. They nodded politely and didn't ask too many questions, and by the time dinner was on the table they were onto other topics, though his mother kept touching his shoulder like she was worried he was about to fall apart.

He went to sleep that night in his old bedroom to the sounds of branches scraping against the window and his own muffled sobs.

 

*

 

He woke up late to Kian sitting down on his bed, the mattress sinking under his weight.

“It's late. Get up.”

“Go 'way.” Mark mumbled, rolling onto his stomach. “Sleeping.”

“It's almost eleven-thirty.”

“Sleeping.” He repeated. Kian laughed as he buried his face in the pillow. A second later there was heavy weight on top of him and teeth tugging at his ear.

“Get up.” Kian lay full length on top of him and Mark gasped as the air was pushed out of his lungs. “Out of bed.”

“Don't you have your own home to go to?”

“I went. Everyone's at work. Come be interesting.”

“I'm never interesting.”

“Course you are.” Fingers slid into his until Kian was moulded to him like a jacket, their legs entwining as much as they could with the height difference. “Get up.”

“No.” With a grunt, Mark rolled onto his back, trapping Kian beneath him. He heard the older boy yelp and grinned, wriggling to really grind him into the mattress. Then he let go, twisting onto his side and yanking the blankets over both their heads, his arm coming around Kian's waist. “Sleep.” He demanded, heard Kian giggle breathlessly, chest heaving as he tried to recover from the sudden squashing.

“It's late.”

“Don't care.” Mark yawned, snuffling into the back of Kian's neck and spooning around him. “I'm a grown-up. I'm allowed to sleep in.”

“This probably looks really suspicious.”

“Don't care.” Mark repeated. “I'm a grown up. I'm allowed to spoon with my best friend.”

“Are you?”

“Yep. It's in the manual.” He yawned, closing his eyes. Kian was warm and soft and Mark was knackered, hadn't gotten properly asleep until early in the morning. Fingers knitted through his as Kian huffed out a breath and settled, giving in to the embrace. “Night.”

“We aren't staying in bed all day.”

“Why not?” Mark argued. “I like bed.”

“I know, but why did we drive four hours so you could stay in bed all weekend? You could have done that at home.”

“You're here.”

“I was there at home.” Kian laughed, wriggling. “Let's go do something. We can go for a walk. You want to go down to Hazelwood?”

“I guess...” Mark conceded. That did sound nice. “Is it cold outside?”

“It's a nice day.” Kian rolled over in his arms, and Mark's bleary eyes made out an encouraging smile. “Come on.” A kiss touched his nose. “If you're stuck in bed you're not getting a start on being awesome without him.”

“I was always awesome without him.”

“Mark...” Kian was doing the put-upon sigh. God. Okay. Mark rolled onto his back, grumbling when Kian climbed out and grabbed his feet, starting to tug. He was up a minute later, stumbling on unsteady legs while Kian threw clothes at him. “Shower. Outside.”

“Fine...” He stumbled to the bathroom. When he came downstairs Kian was at the kitchen table talking to his mother, both of whom seemed to be laughing about something. He paused in the doorway, getting two smiles when they saw him. He smiled awkwardly back, then flinched in surprise when Kian threw a jacket at his head.

“Let's go.”

Hazelwood was cool and quiet, and they wandered around for a while, stopping occasionally to skip stones. They didn't talk much and Mark appreciated it. He just wanted to be, to not clutter the air with noise when it was already busy with the sound of the breeze rustling leaves and birds calling and the slight splash of frogs and fish in the lough.

He felt a little better when they left, and they went back to Kian's car and headed to town for lunch. He hadn't been back that often since they'd moved to Dublin and there was an odd sense of Deja Vu, slight disorientation where some of the old familiar places had gone and new ones had appeared.

The got a basic lunch at the pub, just burger and chips, and when they were heading back to the car, Kian paused, head twisting to the side to look at something across the street.

“What?”

“Is that...?” Kian took two steps back, still looking across the street. Mark tried to follow his gaze, saw a few people milling about outside. “That's Shane Filan, right?”

Mark squinted, trying to see, then laughed when his eyes locked onto a short brunette in front of the Carlton Cafe, chatting to a couple of people. He was smiling, looked older and more put together than Mark remembered him, with shorter hair gelled up slightly in the front. When he looked back Kian had that look on his face, the one that said he'd momentarily become enamoured.

“Shane got hot.”

“Did he?” Mark laughed. “Not my type, but yeah, he looks well. Stop drooling down your shirt.”

“Shut up.” Kian tilted his head. “Well, shit, he was cute at school, but...” He was looking the older boy up and down. “Think he's single?”

“I have no idea.” Mark elbowed him in the side, got a push in return. “He'll probably be at the reunion.”

“Probably.” Kian hesitated, then Shane turned around to go inside and his friend's jaw almost hit the floor. “Fuck, that's a nice arse.” He said. Mark rolled his eyes, beginning to tug Kian along when the door closed, because obviously his friend had lost the ability to walk on his own. “Who would have thought it, right?”

“It's a miracle.” Mark drawled, holding the door open and nudging Kian until he slid in. “You alright to drive? You need a minute?” He asked as he slid into the passenger seat. “I thought you didn't want to get involved in case you fucked it up.”

“I didn't say I want to get involved. Just... if we were to have crazy, filthy sex sometime in the next twenty-four hours I wouldn't be complaining. God, I want to fuck that arse. You think he bottoms?” Kian was practically craning out the window, but Shane was well and truly gone. Mark laughed, settling back into his seat.

“We could always go to the reunion. You can make it casual. 'Hi, how've you been, can I suck you off in the toilets?'”

“I'm classy like that.” Kian agreed. They were moving a second later, Kian edging slowly out of the parallel park and onto the street. “Anyway, you were the one who didn't want to go to the reunion, not me.”

“Fuck off.” Mark rolled his eyes.

“Would you mind if we just popped in for ten minutes?”

“I don't know, Ki. I was really against the whole idea.” That got a laugh. “Fine. If you absolutely _have_ to, I'm sure I can tag along and be your wingman.”

“Thanks. You're a star.” An excited face split into a grin. “Right. Reunion.” He paused at the lights, looking over at Mark. “What the fuck am I going to wear?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Ooh, this is weird.”

Mark nodded in agreement. It was. The school gym was all decked out in bright streamers and balloons and it looked... small. He knew, realistically, that he was about the same height as he had been in highschool but there was just something shrunken about it, like it had seemed so much bigger at the time.

“I got beaten up there.” Kian pointed over at the far corner, where there was a table set up with punch and finger foods. “And there.” He pointed over to the toilets. “And I got kidney-punched over there.” He gestured at the supply closet. “Good times all round.”

“The nostalgia's making me tear up.” Mark sighed. “Some guy called me an arse-bandit down there.” He pointed at the corridor leading to the showers. “And one time a girl threw a handful of tampons at me and told me to plug up my vagina.”

“That was nice of her.”

“I thought so. I was bleeding all over the place.” Mark snorted. He looked down, poking the name-tag he'd had pinned on his chest on the way in. The girl at the desk hadn't recognised him until he'd given his name, and even then hadn't seemed that interested. He couldn't really remember her either, if he was honest. Couldn't remember a lot of these people and had the feeling they'd maybe drifted through highschool with their heads down the same way he had.

Some people he definitely recognised, though, and sort of wished he didn't.

“That guy called me a fat cunt.” Mark pointed at a man in the corner who was looking a bit chubby around the edges, but still had the loud, cheerful voice of someone who was used to being the centre of attention. “And his mate called me a worthless piece of shit and filled my backpack with garbage from the cafeteria bin. I had to throw it away. I couldn't get the smell of old pudding out of it.”

“That girl over there...” Kian gestured. “Told me she'd pray for me. This was six months after she hit on me at a party, by the way, and then got pissed off when I stopped her sticking her hand down my pants.”

“Why the fuck are we here?”

“I don't know.” Kian sighed. “But the man running the bar might have some answers. Want to check all the bottles until we figure it out?”

They got themselves a couple of drinks and made an attempt at circulating. There were a couple of people who hadn't been arseholes and they politely caught up, feigning interest, shaking hands with their partners and pretending to care about their kids. Mark couldn't remember why he'd been interested in coming. Sligo was nice, but he came here all the time. Highschool had been something to lodge firmly in the past.

“Mark?”

He heard a voice, turned around. And there was Shane, looking nice in a pair of suit pants and a leather jacket. He glanced around for Kian, knowing this was pretty much the entire reason they'd come.

“Shane, hey!”

They exchanged a quick hug. Shane hadn't changed a bit, not really. Was still short, with a broad, genuine smile and a kind of infectious positivity. After about five seconds it was like old times, joking and both of them babbling on. Shane was an accountant, which Mark could absolutely believe. By the time Mark was halfway into explaining about the van Kian was coming over.

“Shane!” Shane earned himself a kiss on the cheek and a hug, which he didn't look all that surprised about. “You look well.”

“Thanks. You too.” Shane laughed. “This is mad, right? It's been like ten years!”

“Where you living now?”

“Here.” Shane nodded. “Well, sort of. I spend a lot of time in Dublin, going back and forth for work, but Sligo's always been home. We should meet up! I'm down there all the time.”

“We should.” Kian agreed. “Here, I'll give you my number.” Mark had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as the blonde snatched the phone from Shane's hand and began to key his number in. “Day or night.” He handed it back with a wink. Mark did roll his eyes this time, unable to help it. “I heard you bat for our team now.”

“Oh. Yeah.” That got a bashful grin. “Took a while, but yeah.” He chuckled, raking a self-conscious hand through his hair. “Funny how things work out, isn't it? I think I was more surprised than my parents, to be honest.”

“You got yourself a guy?” Mark asked, trying to at least be a little casual about this when Kian looked about ready to drop his pants.

“Oh. Yeah.” Shane's smile was small and sweet and so cute Mark hardly noticed Kian deflating beside him. It was the smile of someone totally, stupidly in love. “He's just getting drinks. Um...” He leaned over, waving as a man started coming over with two cups in his hands. “Sorry, this is Nicky.”

“Hey...” Their eyes met. Both of them froze.

“Hey.” Mark managed, feeling himself about to start giggling hysterically and trying to get a hold on himself. Nicky's mouth dropped open, then he reeled it back, swallowing hard while Shane kept talking, oblivious.

“Sorry, Nicky this is Kian and Mark...” He introduced them, and Mark reached out to shake Nicky's hand, feeling like he was on autopilot, his skin prickling when he remembered where Nicky's hands had been last time they'd seen each other.

“How long have you been together?” Kian asked.

“About... two years? Almost three?” Shane smiled. Nicky's face had settled into blank smile, but his eyes were glassy with panic. “We haven't been up to Sligo together before so I thought we'd make a weekend of it. Meet my parents, sort of thing. Mam adores him already.”

“Does she? That's nice.” Mark didn't know what else to fucking say. If Kian realised then he wasn't reacting, though he'd only met Nicky for about five seconds and been pretty drunk at the time. “You live in Dublin?"

“Uh... yeah.” Nicky nodded. “I'm... yeah.” He swallowed again, glancing at Shane, who was still beaming. “Here...” He pushed a drink into Shane's hands. “We um... we're moving in together in a couple of weeks.” A trembling smile fluttered across his mouth. “You know. Better late than never.”

“Hey, well good for you.” Kian laughed. “We live in Dublin too. We should do dinner or something one night.”

“Brilliant. Yeah.” Nicky was still smiling, but his eyes kept flicking to Mark, who was kind of hoping a bottomless pit would appear that he could just dive into. Because falling forever would be preferable to this. He thought about excusing himself to the bathroom but couldn't get his dry mouth to make the words. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom.” Nicky leaned in, pecking Shane gently on the cheek and handing him his cup. “Back in a second, babe.”

“See you soon.” Shane squeezed his shoulder and Nicky wandered off, leaving the three of them stood there. Mark's cheeks felt on fire.

“I actually need the loo as well.” Mark managed, beginning to walk away without waiting for a response. He stopped in the hallway, trying to take in deep breaths and slow his hammering heart.

Fuck.

_Fuck_.

He walked slowly to the toilets, sure his feet were made of cement. When he went in Nicky was standing at the sink, his forehead pressed to the glass of the mirror and his eyes closed. He looked up, biting his lip when he saw Mark.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “So... this is weird.”  
  
“Yeah. Fuck.” Nicky stood back, leaning against the wall. “Please don't tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Mark managed. Nicky groaned, sinking down into a crouch with his head in his hands. “So... you're moving in together.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” Nicky looked up. “I'm sorry. I thought it was over and then... he just comes over and starts like... saying all the shit I wanted him to say. Come home, meet my family, let's get a place and I... shit, I feel so fucking guilty.” He was pale. Mark felt bright red. Sank down to hunker against the wall opposite. Nicky stared at him, chewing his lip. “It never happened, okay?”

“Didn't it?”

“Of course it fucking didn't.” Nicky growled, then sobered, looking down at the floor. “Sorry. It's not your fault. What are the fucking odds, right?”

“Yeah.” Mark sighed. “You're never going to tell him?”

“What do you want me to say?” Nicky sighed. “I just... I was so angry with him. I love him, you know? He's the sweetest guy and I was so pissed off that he didn't feel the same way and I just thought...” He shook his head. “I don't know. I thought you seemed nice, and I liked feeling like that again. Wanted. I really did want to meet up.”

“Even though you were still with him?”

“I didn't think I was.” Nicky admitted quietly. “I was just waiting to talk to him. To make it final. He'd been up in Sligo and hadn't been returning my calls, and then I got home on Sunday night and he's at my door with a pizza and wine and we just... we _talked_. Actually talked. About everything.”

“Everything?”

“Don't rub it in.”

“Sorry.” Mark shook his head, not sure if he was. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” Nicky stood back up. “I didn't know you were friends.”

“We're not. I knew him ten years ago. I haven't seen him since. Didn't think I'd see him again, honestly, but...” He stood up as well, feeling his legs begin to ache a bit. And shit, he was getting old. Way too old for this kind of soap opera crap. He ran a hand over his face, trying to think. “It's cool. Look, we just go out there, smile politely, and then we never have to see each other again, right?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “Exactly.” They stared at each other for a long moment. Mark didn't know what to say, how to look at Nicky and not see the way he'd arched into his mouth, the lip-bitten hazy-eyed look of lust when his hips had been moving, fucking Mark in a way that had felt so fucking _good._

“Shit.” He said finally. Nicky laughed, eyes turning up to the ceiling.

“Yeah.”

 

*

 

When he got back Kian had two drinks in his hand. Mark accepted one gladly, taking a sip and trying to sidle back into the conversation. Nicky returned a few minutes later, kissed Shane on the cheek, and took his own cup back. Apparently Shane and Kian were organising for the lot of them to go out for karaoke and drinks the next night, which was just the worst idea Mark had ever fucking heard. They seemed excited, though, babbling on as though it had been ten minutes instead of ten years.

“How long have you two been together, then?”

“Who? Us?” Kian laughed, and Mark rolled his eyes. They got this a lot, and he supposed he understood the confusion. “No. We're just friends.” He nudged Mark slightly as Shane went a little pink. “This idiot?”

“Thanks, Ki.” Mark rolled his eyes. “It's fine.” He told Shane. “People think that a lot. On the upside, it helps if I'm getting hassled by some guy – I just give Kian the nod and he comes over and pretends to be my boyfriend.”

“Oh. I just thought... Sorry.” Shane laughed. “You know, everyone thought you two were shagging in highschool?”

“I know.” Mark sighed. That was putting it delicately. “We weren't.”

“Still haven't.” Kian piped up. “Probably should get on that.”

“No thanks.” He slung his arm around Kian's shoulder, lifting his drink to his mouth with his other hand. “You're way too high maintenance.”

“And you're a pain in my arse.” Kian shot back. “Though everyone keeps looking at us like we are.” Mark glanced around. He had a point. He'd noticed the curious looks when they'd come in together, and he'd heard a few whispers as they'd been wandering around. “We should snog or something. Start a rumour.”

“Brush your teeth first.” Mark teased, got a poke in the side. Nicky was still staring at him, so at least mucking around with Kian was a distraction. He looked over at Shane, who was rolling his eyes, sipping from his drink.

“You two literally haven't changed.” He said finally. Kian shrugged, still smirking.

“Sure we have. Mark's gay now.” An arm looped around his waist, squeezing affectionately. “And you're gay. Everyone's gay. I started a fad.”

“It was you? I wondered who was first.” Nicky laughed. “It's like one of them chain letters.”

“I'm a trendsetter. Didn't expect Shane, though. I mean, Mark, sure, but you?” He tilted his head. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Yeah.” A hand reached down to squeeze Nicky's. “Not at first. I was freaked, wondering what everyone would say and then this guy...” He looked at Nicky. “Ran into him in a bar and we ended up going home together. Thought it was just a one-off and suddenly...” A smile that was heartbreaking in its earnestness curved Shane's lips. “Madly in love, aren't I? That was sort of the clincher.”

“Aww...” Kian sighed while Mark tried not to choke on his drink, earning a nervous glare from Nicky. This was far too much fucking discomfort. He made an excuse about feeling his phone vibrate and pulled it out of his pocket, peering at the blank screen.

“Shit, I gotta go.” He thought he saw Nicky relax slightly and ignored it. “Sorry lads.”

“Where you gotta go?” Kian looked suspicious.

“Just home. Family thing. It's cool.” He looked at his friend, hoping Kian's uncanny knack for knowing when he was lying wouldn't come into play. “You stay if you want. I can get a cab."

“I'll drive you.” Kian offered. “We're off. Nice seeing you.” He leaned over, giving Shane a quick hug. “And meeting you.” He shook Nicky's hand. “Call me about karaoke, okay? We're in town until Monday, so maybe we can do something tomorrow night?” Shane said that was fine and a second later they were saying goodbyes and heading out into the corridor.

It was cold when they went out through the front doors.

“What's wrong?” Kian asked. Mark groaned, not knowing how to answer. Too embarrassed to try.

They climbed into the car and drove home in silence. Mark went upstairs to bed and lay down, burying his face in the pillow and trying to hide the blush permanently branded into his face, his stomach rolling and sick.

Fuck.

 

*

 

He hadn't told Kian why they'd had to leave so suddenly, despite his friend's confused questions. He couldn't do it. Couldn't explain that apparently he was a terrible person. He knew what Kian would say. He'd laugh hysterically first, give him a hug, and then say it wasn't his fault. He hadn't known. But he _had,_ at least a little, and that was the problem. He'd known Nicky was on the back end of a relationship. He'd known they hadn't officially broken up yet. He'd known Nicky was a bit upset and maybe pining over this guy, wanting more than what they had. He'd known all that.

He just hadn't cared.

He'd been that person. After all that shit with Kevin, hating both him and the guy he'd been snogging, it turned out he was only a few beers and a bit of misery from becoming that guy as well. So why the hell did he have the right to be pissed off?

He didn't know what to do. Whether he should be telling Shane that he'd actually sort of fucked his boyfriend. Been fucked by his boyfriend. Sucked his boyfriend off. Made his boyfriend _breakfast_ for fuck's sake. Had been maybe intending to go out with him when it had been shut down. That Nicky had asked him out. That if Shane hadn't had a change of heart and asked Nicky to move in with him...

Because fuck. _Fuck_.

He hid inside all day, sitting on the couch watching TV with his brothers and trying to escape into the domesticity of being with his family. He got a text from Kian letting him know they were doing karaoke at eight and he'd come get him at seven-thirty. He stared at the text for a long while, trying to figure out how to answer it.

He didn't. At six-thirty he started getting dressed. Kian came by at quarter past seven, told him his hair was a mess and forced him back into the bathroom to do it again.

The pub was crowded. Nicky and Shane were already at a table, snuggled up in the corner of the booth, Shane's arm around his shoulders. They weren't kissing, but they were obviously together, Nicky gently nuzzling his cheek while Shane giggled and looked at him with big, adoring eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky seemed to move in a little closer to Shane, his gaze turning guarded. Kian went to the bar. Mark sat down, feeling awkward and guilty.

“How's it going?”

“Brilliant.” Shane grabbed a chip from the bowl on the table, then nudged it over for Mark to take one as well. “Nicky's not enjoying Sligo.”

“Fuck off.” Nicky laughed, elbowing him. “It's fine.”

“Why not?”

“I don't hate it.” Nicky rolled his eyes.

“You haven't stopped complaining since we got here.”

“I only complain when I like something. I complain about you all the time.” Nicky shot back, got an affectionate squeeze. “His mam keeps trying to fatten me up.” He said conspiratorially, looking over at Mark. “I've never eaten so many chips in my life.”

“That sounds like Shane's mam.” Kian said, sitting down with a couple of pints. Mark took his. “What are we talking about?”

“Nicky doesn't like Sligo.”

“We have that in common.” Kian snorted. Shane looked over in surprise.

“Really?”

Kian shrugged. “It's fine. Whatever.” He took a sip of his beer. “I don't come back very often. Just to see family and stuff.” Mark squeezed his shoulder, got a fleeting smile back. “Mark wanted a road trip. We didn't actually mean to come for the reunion, but we figured while we were here anyway...”

“Glad you did. Haven't seen you guys in forever.” Shane grinned. “It was good to see everyone last night, too. Can't believe how much people have changed.”

“I know.” Mark nodded. “Like, I thought you'd be married by now. Ten kids in and trying for another one.”

“That was definitely the plan, yeah.” Shane's eyes darted to Nicky. They did that a lot, like even with the blonde sitting right there he didn't want to let him out of his sight for a second. “Not complaining about how it turned out though.”

“Shay...” Nicky blushed. His eyes kept darting to Mark, like he was afraid Mark was going to blurt something out. It couldn't have been further from the truth. Right now all he wanted to do was sew his mouth shut, climb into a hole, and fill it with cement. It'd still be less painful than this.

The karaoke started up. Shane went first. He still had a great voice, was still a total performer, though he looked freer now. More confident and like he was playing up for himself, not trying too hard for the rest of the crowd. He sang a Michael Jackson song, chucked in a moonwalk for good measure. Nicky was laughing, arms crossed over his chest and winking when he got a smirk. He left the stage to general applause, dropping back into the booth and getting a hug.

“Who's up next?”

Kian did the deed, leaned against the microphone and rocking out to a Bryan Adams song. He'd always had a good voice, had Kian, had joked that if the van didn't take off they could always be a boyband. Mark had snorted and said they were too fucking old for that. He finished growling out Run To You and came back beaming self-consciously, sinking back down while Shane and Nicky clapped, Shane leaning over to give him a hug.

“I forgot how good you were!” Shane exclaimed. “Remember doing Grease at the Hawks Well?” They both nodded, Mark reaching out to grab his drink. “I had girls falling all over me for weeks. It bloody _rained._ ”

“I can't say I had the same problem.” Kian snorted. Mark laughed. He had noticed a bit of an upturn as well, at the time. Not as much as Shane, but there had been more interest for sure. He'd gotten his first handjob about a week later, and it hadn't been at all bad.

“Should I be jealous?” Nicky asked.

“Nope.” Shane kissed his cheek. “I had sex with all those girls. Like _so many_. And I still want you.”

“I hope you got tested.” Nicky teased. “You don't know where they've been.”

“I do.” Shane winked. “I could show you on a doll. Point to the bits.”

“Arsehole.” Nicky giggled, starting to climb over Shane in the booth. “I need a drink. Who wants a drink?” They all raised their hands. Nicky pushed into the crowd, leaving the three of them sat around the cooling basket of chips.

“I like him.” Kian nodded towards the bar. Mark saw Shane blush. “Good catch.”

“I know.” A grin spread over the older boy's face. “He's just... guh.” His head dropped back theatrically, hands going to his heart. Mark found himself laughing despite the constant swell of guilt. They were really cute together, and Mark had managed to come between it, even if Shane didn't know. “Not letting that one go. Not if I can help it.” He glanced over to where they could just see a blonde head leaned over the bar. “How about you lads? You got, like... fellas or? Considering you're not with each other.”

“No.” Kian smiled. “Not right now. Just having fun, you know?” Mark nodded along, knew Kian was trying to skirt around the fact that he wasn't having much fun at all and didn't want to sound sad. “And Mark just got out of a relationship, so we're back to old times, you know? Lads' nights, on the pull.”

“Oh, yeah? How long were you together?”

Mark grimaced. “Five years.” He saw Shane's face drop in surprise. “It's fine. Good riddance, bad rubbish sort of situation.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” He shrugged, swallowing around his new companion through life, the lump in his throat. Kian's fingers squeezed his under the table.

“You need a good shag.” Shane winked.

“He already got one.” Kian snorted. Nicky was just sitting back down, placing the drinks carefully on the table. “Every hole and upside down, from what I hear. Not bad for a rebound fuck.” Nicky froze, looking at Mark.

“Who are we talking about?” He said carefully. Mark felt himself go red.

“Mark got a rebound shag.” Shane explained, reaching out to pull Nicky back into the booth. “So... good, then?”

“It was fine.” He mumbled, feeling eyes on him.

“It was bloody brilliant, I heard.” Kian laughed. “He got a lovely compliment on his blowjob skills. I feel like I should be putting out comment cards now.” Nicky's eyes were narrowing. “That's what you need, I reckon. Pull some slapper for a meaningless go round and you're back on the horse. Better than paying for it.”

“He wasn't a slapper...” Mark managed, seeing Nicky's gaze drift to Kian, almost a glare. “He was nice. I made him breakfast.”

“Aw...” Shane smiled. “See, that's nice. Polite. Gonna see him again?”

“No.” Mark shook his head, feeling about two inches tall under Nicky's look. “It didn't mean anything. I lost his number, anyway.”

“Check your call history, maybe?” Shane suggested.

“It's fine.” Mark put a hand over his pocket, trying to look casual. That was the last thing he needed, one of them finding Nicky's number in his phone. “Really. I'm not trying to date, it was just one of those shags, you know? He's got his own life, I've got mine.” He said pointedly, saw Nicky relax a little, though he still looked guarded.

“You'll find someone else.” Nicky's face was concerned, but there was something brittle in his voice. “Good-looking lad, seem friendly. Breakfast is always a bonus anyway.”

“When was the last time you made me breakfast?” Shane teased, nudging him. “I'm still waiting.”

“I always sort breakfast.” Nicky countered. “You know for someone who worked in a chipper I don't think you've ever cooked for me. Where's my breakfast, huh?” He started to tickle Shane, who was giggling and trying to squirm away. “Where's my fucking breakfast, Shaney?” He was laughing but it looked a little forced. Shane didn't seem to notice, was too busy trying to bat away clawed hands.

“I'm sorry! Shit!” Shane squealed, still squirming. “I'll make breakfast tomorrow!”

“Only under pain of torture. What's the point of ya?” Nicky let him go, smiling into the giggling kiss dropped on his lips. “Hey. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Shane snorted, reaching out for his drink. Nicky's arm was settling around his shoulders. Kian was rolling his eyes and smiling. Mark stared down at the table, not able to make eye-contact with any of them.

The rest of the night passed slowly. He couldn't exactly make excuses and bolt this time, so he sat at the table, picking at food and trying to avoid the temptation to get plastered. He wanted to, definitely, to get rid of the horrible settling feeling of awkwardness, of guilt every time he saw Shane look adoringly at Nicky. He didn't want to get too drunk, though, in case he said or did something really stupid and toppled the careful house of cards he felt like he and Nicky were in the middle of building together.

Nicky got up, did a song. He was actually very good, had a cockiness about him. There were one or two bum notes but it didn't seem to matter because they were just part of the experience, like he was charging headlong at Lionel Richie and didn't need stupid things like pitch getting in the way. It was a little bit brilliant. Shane stared at him the whole time with a look of besotted worship in his eyes, like Nicky was a perfect, wonderful thing that could never do any wrong.

Mark wanted to crawl under the table and cry.

Nicky came back down with his arms above his head like a prize-fighter, collapsed into the booth. Shane was kissing him a second later, both of them laughing and groping at each other. Kian rolled his eyes, nudging Mark lightly.

“Gross.”

But he looked a bit in love with Nicky too. Not in a romantic way, or a sexual way, just in the way they were, all wrapped up in each other and so obviously in love. Mark got it. If he hadn't known he'd probably be the same way, glad that they'd found each other and sort of wanting to cover his eyes in case the slurping got too pornographic.

“Oh. Yum.” Kian was craning his neck a bit, arse off the bench so he could see over the crowd. Mark looked over, trying to figure out what he was looking at, and understood when he saw a tallish brunette lurking near the bar in a leather jacket.

“Your type?”

“Maybe.” Kian stood a little more, trying to see. “Call it.”

“Mm... straight.” Mark decided. Kian groaned, looking down at him.

“You sure?”

“More or less.” Mark shrugged. “Don't get a vibe.”

“Bollocks.” Kian sighed.

“Who are we looking at?” Nicky asked, turning too. He'd disentangled himself from Shane at some point, though they were still holding hands under the table.

“Don't all bloody look!” Kian scolded as Shane turned too. “Embarrassing!”

“Piss off.” Shane was craning his neck. “Leather jacket?”

“Yeah.” Kian moaned, burying his head in his arms. Mark laughed, kissing his bowed nape and getting a shove.

“Might be in with a chance.” Shane shrugged. “Could be.”

“Nah, don't think so.” Nicky shook his head. “Cute, though. Wouldn't kick that out of bed.”

“Thanks.” Shane rolled his eyes, got a placating hug. “Go find out.”

“Yeah, I'm gonna walk over and hit on a lad in _Sligo_ , of all places.” Kian looked up. “Last time I did that I ended up the wrong way up in the skip out back of home ec.”

“It's not like that any more.” Shane argued. “When I came out there was barely any fuss.”

“Wow, well, good for you.” Kian pursed his lips, glancing back over at the guy near the bar. He was laughing with another guy, but that didn't help much. Mark shrugged.

“Just go ask.”

“I'm fine. Really. I'm hanging out with you lot.” Kian argued. “It'd just be rude.”

“Fine. _I'll_ find out.” Nicky stood up, and before any of them could say anything he was crossing the pub, weaving through people. He was stood in front of the guy a moment later, talking quickly and gesturing over his shoulder. Kian's face was going bright red, especially when they both turned to look at him.

“Fuck.” Kian whispered when they both laughed. Then Nicky was coming back over.

“Hey.” He plonked down into the booth. “Right, verdict is no.”

“Thanks for that.” Kian grumbled. He was still pink. Mark wanted to hug him badly, except he suspected he was about to start laughing hysterically if he made any sudden movements.

“However...” Nicky continued. “He does have a single brother, who's in the toilets and will be out in a minute.”

“Oh.” That seemed to cheer Kian up a bit. They watched surreptitiously until another lad wandered over, this one actually better looking than the other one. The two of them spoke for a minute, then Mark saw the brother glance over, a smile drifting across his face. Kian smiled back, raising a hand awkwardly in a wave.

“There ya go.” Nicky chuckled. “Sorted.”

“I... okay. Yeah.” Kian was already standing up, which worked out well because the brother was starting to cross the floor. They met somewhere in the middle, both of them laughing awkwardly, with lots of head-scratching and fidgeting. Kian gestured, and a minute later they were headed to the bar, hopping up on stools while Kian leaned over to talk to the bartender.

“You're magic.” Shane laughed, nudging his boyfriend playfully. “How the hell do you do that?”

“Do what? We were wondering, so I asked.” Nicky shrugged. Mark shook his head. This was the Nicky he'd met – totally unaffected and straightforward. He'd been the same in the bar a few weeks back, just wandering over and propositioning Mark with the tact of a hammer. Not that it hadn't worked out. Mark thought he was a little bit jealous. He never had the guts to do stuff like that.

Though he had gone home with Nicky, so it wasn't like he was doing too badly himself.

Fuck.

“We're out.” Shane announced, grabbing his jacket. Mark looked at his watch. Almost midnight. “You want to split a cab?”

Mark nodded. He went to tap Kian on the shoulder, but his friend was quite happy to stay, thanks very much, was laughing with his new friend. Mark nodded, hugged him quickly, then headed back to the door, looking very much forward to spending the next ten minutes crammed in a small space with the happy couple.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was Kian's turn to drive, but Mark ended up offering as soon as he saw the look on Kian's face, the haggard, too-little-sleep, totally fucked out look that was halfway between a spring in his step and falling over with exhaustion. Kian collapsed gratefully into the passenger seat when Mark tugged him out of the driver's, nudging him around and sliding into the space he'd vacated.

He waved at his parents, getting cheerful smiles and waves back as he pulled Kian's car out the drive and down onto the road, watching carefully as green fields started to shift into the grey concrete of town, heading toward the motorway.

“How you doing?” He smirked, reaching a hand out blindly to pat a firm chest, Kian's seat tilted all the way back and his knees curled up comfortably. “You want a blankie or something?”

“Blankie? What am I, five?”

“If you are, last night was really illegal.” He heard Kian laugh and smiled, glancing over into sleepy eyes that looked like they needed to be propped open. “Good night?”

“Pretty great.” Kian yawned, turning onto his side as much as the seatbelt would allow. “I think he broke me.”

“Poor thing.”

“Mm... but in fairness I broke him back.” There was another yawn, a slight stretch. A hand reached over to squeeze his thigh. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark squeezed the hand, other one keeping the wheel steady. “What's up?”

“Nothing.” When he glanced over Kian's eyes were closed. “Remind me to send Nicky a thank-you basket.”

“Will do.” Mark laughed. “Filthy details?”

“Too many to count. I think we compared tattoos for about twenty minutes, and then it was sort of fade to black. You know. Too explicit for telly.”

“He had tattoos?”

“Couple, yeah.” Kian nodded. The hand stayed on Mark's thigh. “There was a lovely moment when I was sitting on his face and sucking his dick and his cat walked in.”

“Really?” Mark laughed. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just sat there, being a cat. Like, giving itself a bath and watching. Just fucking judging us while we're sixty-nining on the couch. He was laughing and I was trying to shoo it off and it just jumped up on the coffee table and started licking its arse. While he's licking my arse.”

Mark started laughing, trying to keep his eyes on the road and not be too overwhelmed by the absurdity of that mental image. Kian was giggling too.

“And I was like, wish I could do that. And he said 'that's what you've got me for'. Then he just went to town. Oh my god.” He closed his eyes again, still letting out little hiccups of laughter. “Like, humming with his tongue so deep it had to be illegal. I'm trying to blow him, and I don't even know where my own mouth is.”

“Nice cock?”

“Yeah, average. You know. Comfortable.” Kian yawned. “Been a while, so it was a bit pleasant. Not been getting the shag on like you have.”

“It's been a few weeks.”

“Yeah, still. You should call him again. Get back on the bike.”

“It's fine.” Mark shrugged. “I think I just want to spend a bit of time by myself.” He admitted. Though he hadn't been wanting that so much before he'd found out who Nicky really was. He felt like he should be finding some way to atone or something. Charity work, or community service. Sending Shane a box of cupcakes with 'I'm sorry I accidentally fucked your boyfriend' iced on top.

“Fuck you too.”

“You don't count.”

“Fuck you more.” The hand patted his thigh again before withdrawing. “What was that lad's name, anyway? I wouldn't mind a go, from what you were saying. Especially if you want time by yourself...” He teased.

“Erm...” Mark feigned looking thoughtful, then shrugged, his heart hammering in his throat while he tried to come up with a reasonable answer. “Dunno. Nathan? Nick? Something like that.” He glanced over at Kian, but his eyes were closed and he didn't seem to have twigged to the fact that Mark was having a small panic attack.

“You don't remember? Trollop.”

“What was your lad's name?”

“Davin.” Kian said promptly. “Nice lad.”

“Name the last ten lads you've slept with then.”

“Erm...” Kian's eyes opened, and he gave Mark a guilty grin. “How about last five?”

“There, see?” Mark reached out, jabbing him with a pointed finger. Kian squawked, guarding his stomach with both hands when Mark went to do it again. “Hypocrite.”

“Tart.”

“Want to stop for breakfast?” They'd just passed a sign for a McDonalds coming up in the next two kilometres. “Get you a muffin and some coffee?”

“God yeah.” Kian snuggled down into his hands as Mark began to shift lanes, looking for the exit. “Don't wake me until there's something hot in my hand.” He cracked open an eye when Mark didn't reply. “Really? Something hot in my hand?”

“Too easy.” Mark smirked, got a laugh. “Go to sleep, okay? I'll wake you up with something warm and salty in your mouth.”

“And he comes back swinging.” Kian snorted. “G'night, muppet.” Mark reached over until he could ruffle soft hair, eyes still fixed on the road. Felt a kiss touch his palm as he pulled it away.

“Night, twatface.”

 

*

 

Thing seemed to be looking up a little for the next two weeks or so. Insomuch as they weren't looking down. It was delightfully boring, life plodding along, work filling up enough time to keep his mind off things, and home being not as miserable as it had been before. It wasn't fantastic, of course, but nothing seemed to be getting worse and that was at least a blessing.

He still wasn't used to living alone. It was strange. He'd walk into a room, go to say something about how it looked like rain, or that they should probably go get groceries, and then realise there was nobody there. It was an unexpected feeling, sinking down onto the couch and finding the silence closing in on him all of a sudden. He'd never lived by himself before. He'd moved out of home and in with Kian then in with Kevin all totally seamlessly. Hanging onto one branch before he'd let go of the other. Now he was stuck dangling and with nowhere to go but down, looking around in confusion and wondering why the place was a tip and then realising he had no-one to blame but himself.

The rent was due. They'd been talking about buying a place but not got around to it. They hadn't gotten around to a lot of things, mostly things that were too much of a commitment. They'd talked about them a lot, but it had always felt a bit like they were both watching each other over the space of a chasm, neither willing to put a foot on the single rickety bridge, knowing it wouldn't hold either of their weight.

He stared at the rent bill for a long time. It seemed tiny in the large, empty space of the house. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a backyard, a dining room, an office. For what? Though they had been using both the bedrooms, at the end there. The guest room was lonely, but at least it wasn't shouting at him.

It was good they hadn't bought a place, he supposed. The only thing that could make this worse was having to dicker over the details, sat on opposite sides of some bloody lawyer's desk and trying to figure out who owned the bathroom fixtures.

But things were okay, otherwise. Quiet. He settled back into a routine, tried to get on with being on his own without leaning on Kian as a crutch all the time, though he knew his friend didn't mind. He didn't want to be that guy, though. The one who was single and hopeless and complaining to everyone about how single and hopeless he was. He wanted to be out and talking to people and behaving like someone who hadn't just been walked out on.

He was really really fucking miserable.

 

*

 

“Right.” Kian plonked himself down at the kitchen table. He'd barged in less than a minute before, shouldered Mark aside, and charged into the kitchen, his laptop under his arm. It was being opened before Mark could blink.

“Hi. How are you?”

“Better than you. You look like shit.” Kian looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Brush your hair or something.”

“It's my day off.”

“So look happy about it.” Kian tugged over a second chair, patting it while his laptop booted up. “Come sit down.”

“Okay...” He sank into the chair, smiling when an arm came around his waist. He leaned his head on Kian's shoulder, peering at the screen while the older boy flicked through the favourites list.

“Porn?”

“Yes, but not for you.” He scrolled past a couple of folders. One just said COCKS. The one he clicked on finally said 'rental listings'. “Right, let's do this.”

“You've been shopping around for me?”

“You said you wanted help finding a place.” Kian shrugged. “Thought I'd do some research.”

“Do I get any input?”

“You do.” Kian nodded. “But I know what you're like. We'll look for an hour and it'll be a thousand excuses about how you don't like the wallpaper and we won't get anything done. These are all the ones close by that have what you're looking for.”

“What am I looking for?”

“One bedroom, one bathroom, garage, modern kitchen, office.” Kian listed. “Reasonable prices.”

“What's reasonable?”

“Dunno, figured under eight hundred a month.” Kian shrugged. “What are you paying on this place?”

“Too much.” Mark looked around. He had to admit the last couple of months had been a struggle, trying to do everything on one paycheck. There were bills looming as well. “I don't know. Maybe I should look at a flat or something. It was a bit ambitious getting a house.”

“Got you covered.” Kian flicked into another folder that said 'flats'. Mark blinked, surprised.

“Fuck, you're organised.”

“Yep.” Kian nodded. “I'm doing the look around myself at the moment, so I just saved any that I thought looked up your alley.”

“You're moving?”

“Eventually.” Kian nodded. “Lease is up in two months and I have a feeling the owner's looking to sell the block, so I wanted to have a plan B in case I'm out. Thinking Baldoyle or something. Somewhere on the beach. I don't get enough time to surf, so it'll be nice to have an excuse.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “God, I think the last time we lived near the beach was...” He tapped his chin, trying to think. “Was it Bray? When we stayed in that weird flat for six months, and we had to share a bathroom with the old lady next door?”

“Oh yeah...” Kian laughed. “That place was a shithole. And we had to take two buses to get to uni, and when it rained the toilet wouldn't flush.”

“That's right.” Mark snorted. “Good times.”

“They were. Yeah.” A kiss nudged his temple and he looked up, getting a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark laughed. “You look like you're thinking something.”

“Might be.” They both nodded. Mark knew where this was going. Fingers drifted affectionately through his hair. “So... look for a place with two bedrooms then?”

“It'll be easier for work.” Mark reasoned. “We won't have to figure out whose house to park the van at.”

“Makes sense. Come here.” He was tugged into a hug, leaned his head on Kian's shoulder and shut his eyes, feeling the worry and misery rush out of him for a moment. He breathed out, feeling a hand drift up his back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “We don't have to. I can live by myself. I'm not that sad yet.”

“Fuck off. Of course you are.” They both laughed, Kian giving him a squeeze. “It'll be fun. I was supposed to have a boyfriend by now, anyway. I've been living by myself for like four years and it's fucking boring. You went off and left me, you bastard.”

“Sorry.” He sighed, glancing over Kian's shoulder at the screen. “Fuck, you'll have to start all over again.”

“That's what I'm for.” Kian pulled away, cracked his knuckles, and then went to the top of the screen, switching the bedroom parameters from 'one' to 'two'. “There we go. Bloody hell, that was hard.” He got an open, accepting smile, and suddenly felt like he wanted to cry. “Right. So... how does Baldoyle sound to you?”

 

*

 

“Stop messing about.” Mark hissed. Kian shot a look over his shoulder, laughing when Mark made a feint at him. The other boy was mucking about on the railing to the staircase, trying to see if he could slide down it while the rental agent was out getting a few pamphlets from her car. “You'll kill yourself.”

“I'm fine.” He threw a leg over, trying to go on his stomach, then squawked when he tipped. Mark's heart lurched into his throat, but when he leaned over to look Kian was dangling from both hands, his feet only a foot or so above the floor. He dropped, hitting the hall tiles with a thump.

“Fucking stop it. You'll crack your head open.”

“Worrier.” Kian shot back, straightening up when the front door opened again, blinking innocently at the lady who was showing them around. “I like the staircase.” He said cheerfully. She smiled, handing them a couple of brochures.

This was their fifth or sixth place so far. She'd assumed they were a couple pretty much straight away so they hadn't bothered to correct her. It was probably easier than explaining the fact that they were both pushing thirty, single, and had given up so badly they were going back to being housemates again. Kian was running up the stairs again, so he followed, poking his head into the first of the upstairs bedrooms.

“This one's mine.”

“Congratulations.” Mark drawled. “You haven't even seen the living room yet.”

“Oh. Right.” Kian ran downstairs. He was like a tornado today, though the two Red Bulls he'd had in the car probably weren't helping. “Ooh.” Mark heard him say as he rounded the corner. “Fireplace!”

“Romantic.” He smirked when he saw the agent smile brightly and start to waffle on about how it was gas and would be nice and easy to run. Kian was already poking around the kitchen. “So you like this one?”

“Yeah.” Kian turned around from where he was opening all the cupboard doors. “Look.” He tugged Mark over to the back door, sliding it open and pulling him out onto the patio. The backyard was edged by a rock wall, but when he stepped closer he realised he could see the water, just over the roofs of the next few houses. “Beach.”

“Beach.” Mark agreed. He looked down at the brochure in his hand. It wasn't too much, this place. Not considering how much he'd been spending before, and with Kian here it was perfectly manageable. “Let's check out the garage, and if it's big enough for the van...” He looked at Kian. “You're sure you want to live together?”

“Course.” Kian hopped up on the wall, standing and peering out. A hand shielded his eyes against the setting sun. “Gotten any new annoying habits?”

“Just the old ones.”

“Cool.”

He hopped back down, hands on Mark's shoulders for support. They smiled at each other. And then, suddenly, Kian kissed him. Just quickly. A peck on the mouth. He pulled back, grinning. Mark stared, not sure what to say.

“Come on.” Kian chuckled. “Let's go look at the garage.”

 

*

 

Moving sucked. He sort of remembered how crappy it had been years ago, shifting from place to place when they'd been renting, boxing up all their shit and trying to stuff as much as they could in the backseats and boots of cars of various helpful friends and family members. At least then they hadn't had that much. Now it was all bloody arguments over whose furniture went with the living room carpet, and who had the better fridge.

But it was okay. They compromised, or at least they bickered until one of them gave in. Mark's sofa stayed, but Kian's recliners got to go either side. Both of their desks were squashed in the office, facing each other under the big window that looked out onto the backyard. Bedrooms were easy enough, and Mark had the bigger television, so Kian's got put in his bedroom on top of the dresser. By the time they were unpacking the last few boxes on the third day they were dirty and sweaty, singing along to the radio while Kian tried to figure out where all the power points were for various appliances.

“Blender?”

“Ehm...” Mark looked between the two of them. “Yours.” He decided. It was a bit newer and less dented. His own was starting to die a bit. “But I want to keep my microwave.”

“Can do.” Kian was already plugging it in. “Is this a pizza oven?” He reached into the box and pulled it out. “I've never even seen this before.”

“Yeah, it seemed like a good idea.” Mark shrugged. “You know. Hanging around Aldi, impulse buy. I think I used it twice.”

“Does it work?”  
  
“It did three years ago when I bought it.” He turned back to the bag he was going through, starting to pull out some more pots and pans. At least they weren't bloody short on those. They had about five dinner sets between them.

“Want to use it tonight?”

“If you like. We'll have to do groceries first.” They needed to do them anyway. They hadn't taken out the van in over a week, with the madness of moving and everything getting in the way. They'd have to do it soon. They both had plenty in savings, but Mark didn't like the idea of dipping into it if he didn't have to, and he was already going to be spending up getting supplies for crepes and all that.

“Cool. We can have a shower, then head down to the supermarket? I saw one a few blocks over when we drove in.”

“Sounds good.” He opened the top drawer, starting shoving knives and forks into the rack. For the first time he wondered what Kevin had done when he'd moved. He'd only taken his own things, not the appliances or furniture. He wondered if he should have called or something, to see if he wanted any of it. They'd bought so many of those things together and they'd just been... left. He wondered if he'd had to buy all new stuff. He wondered if he'd hadn't needed to, if he'd moved straight in with whatshisface. He realised that he didn't even know where Kevin was now, where he'd gone to when he'd packed up the car and driven off.

“You okay?” He looked up, realised Kian was casting a look of concern in his direction.

“I'm... yeah.” He sank down at the kitchen table. A hand fell to his shoulder a second later. “Sorry.” He managed a half-hearted smile when Kian crouched into his range of vision. “Ignore me."

“Nah.” He got a lopsided grin. “Want me to finish up? You can have first shower.”

“It's fine.” He pushed himself back up, started digging around in the box again. “Can I ask you something?” Kian nodded. He was back to unloading appliances, but he was casting looks Mark's way every few seconds. “You didn't like him, right?”

“It wasn't...”

“Kian...” Mark cut him off, saw his friend starting to go into damage control again. “Just... answer the question.”

“Okay.” Kian bit his lip, looking thoughtful. “It wasn't that I didn't like him. It was just that you never seemed that happy, really. Like, you were happy, but not...” He scratched his hair awkwardly, like he was trying to scrape the right words out of his brain. “I didn't like to see you settling.”

“I wasn't settling.” Mark shrugged. “It worked at first. For the first few years anyway. I loved him.”

“I know. But... I dunno.” Kian sighed. “Like, until we started doing this van thing it felt like I hardly saw you, honestly. Nobody did. You were just with him all the time, but it didn't feel like you were doing it because you wanted to. Like, I'd call and see if you wanted to go somewhere and the first thing you'd do is ask him if it was okay. And he'd never come, and when he did it didn't look like he wanted to be there. Or he'd try to take everything over. Like, I'd ask you to the cinema and he'd come along and then look put out if we picked something he didn't want to see. I just...” He looked at Mark. “You stopped acting like you.”

“I was in a relationship. You compromise.”

“Yeah, you did.” Kian said. “Because you wanted to. It felt like he did it because he had to. Like it was his job or something.”

“You were really paying attention, huh?” Mark felt his throat thicken under an apologetic gaze. Wished desperately that what Kian was saying wasn't true.

“You're my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Kian was in his arms without him even realising he'd reached out for a hug. He heard a soft laugh, got a gentle squeeze. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me?”

“It's fine. At least you're easy on the eyes.” Kian winked, pulling back. “Just wait. One day I'll be totally heartbroken and miserable and you can behave like an arsehole and slag off my ex.” Mark snorted, letting him go. They both smelled really bad. He brushed a dustbunny off his sleeve, watching it float to the ground. Kian kicked it lightly, then shook his foot when it got stuck to his shoe. “We're filthy.” A fist nudged his shoulder. “Come on. Let's finish this shit off and get into a hot shower.”

Mark nodded, lifting out a stack of plates and beginning to sort them onto a shelf, smiling when he heard Kian start to hum along to the radio.

 


	6. Chapter 6

He'd forgotten how easy it was, living with Kian. Just being able to drift through the day with a minimum of resistance, both of them being reasonably respectful of each other's space, not making too much of a mess, and getting on with life.

They settled a routine that first week. Having a good clean and tidy, of course, arguing over where to put the last bits and pieces, but by the end they had a place that looked a bit like both of them. It was nice. Kian would get up early and go to the beach to surf and Mark would get breakfast on. Then they'd be on the road for their first job by ten or so. If they had no jobs at night it was back home and sat on the couch, having a couple of beers and watching TV.

Kian was trying to organise a house-warming for the next weekend, had asked Mark who he wanted to invite. It dawned on him that he didn't actually know. Pretty much everyone he'd hung out with over the last few years had been Kevin's friends, and when Kian started listing people they both knew he realised he hadn't seen any of them in ages. Almost felt awkward about having them round and having to explain why he hadn't talked to them in three or four years.

But today was beautiful, the sun out and a cool breeze wafting past the van, the inside all warm while Kian sorted out the tills for the beginning of the day. He could already hear people running past, the first screams as the rides started up.

“I'm going out tonight.”

“Yeah?” Mark looked up. “Date?”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded, shutting the till. “I'm ready. You good?”

“Yep.” He passed a hand over the stove, making sure it was warm enough. “When you are.”

“Grand.” Kian started to push open the window. The noises of the carnival rushed in. Mark glanced out, peering up at the rollercoaster not too far away from where they were set up.

“Want to go on that later?”

“If you like.” Kian stretched slightly. “So yeah, getting picked up at seven. You be okay tonight?”

“I hope so. What if a stranger knocks on the door?”

“Ask how big his cock is, then let him in?” Kian suggested. Mark snorted, starting to pour out batter onto the hotplate.

“So who's the guy?”

“Brian.” Kian leaned against the counter, looking out. “Met him at the beach the other day. Seemed like a cool guy. We just started chatting. He just... god.” Mark watched him swoon a little, and laughed. Kian was terrible. Madly in love within a minute. “He's a musician.”

“Your mam'll be proud.”

“If she doesn't find out what I want to do to him.” Kian smirked. “I'll make him come in. You have to take a look at this guy. Seriously. Like, really ridiculously hot and also a musician who surfs.”

“So, perfect for you?”

“So perfect.” Kian sighed. “Also, if the bulge in his wetsuit was anything to go by, I'll be walking funny tomorrow.”

“All class.”

“Mm.” Kian reached over, snagging a banana out of the bag under the counter. “Want me to see if he has a friend?”

“It's fine.” Kian didn't reply, but Mark heard a heavy sigh, and turned around to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Just...” Kian shook his head. “You should date or something. You're bumming me out.”

  
“I'm sorry. Is my misery bumming you out? I'm so selfish.”

“It's not...” Kian bit his lip. “Look, you're not helping yourself by staying at home all the time. He's not coming back. You don't even want him back. Go out. See people. Have a shag. Meet someone or something. I don't know.”

Mark felt a sudden rush of anger. “What, because that's working for you, is it? Thanks for the advice, Kian. Relationships are your forte and all.” He expected a retort, but when he turned around to look Kian was staring out the window, his hands balled into fists. Mark looked away. No. Fuck it. He was pissed off. The last thing he needed was relationship advice.

They worked in silence for the rest of the day, except for one of them to announce they were going to the bathroom or to relay orders. By the time they were packing up Mark didn't feel like going on the rollercoasters any more. They tidied in silence, then locked down all the windows and climbed into the front, Kian in the driver's seat.

Mark was in bed reading a book when Kian poked his head in. He'd been watching TV while Kian got ready for his date, but he'd been tired and hadn't felt like sitting up any longer.

He didn't know why he was pissed off, exactly. Kian was probably right. He'd kept to himself while he was with Kevin and was doing the same thing now. He just didn't know how to get over that hump. The one where it was going out and starting all over again, feeling like it was all just the beginning of pushing the same damn rock uphill. Kevin and Nicky. That was his experience and look how that had fucking turned out. He didn't have the energy. Not to do what Kian was, setting himself up for disappointment over and over again, looking for a needle in a haystack full of pins.

“Mark?”

“Hey.” He looked up. He hadn't been reading anyway, really, had just been staring at the page. “Going out?”

“Yeah.” Kian slid into the room. “Look, today...”

“I'm sorry.” Mark interrupted. Kian pursed his lips, looking down at his shoes. “I'm just... I'm pissed off. It wasn't fair to say that.”

“I'm not an idiot.” Kian crossed his arms. “I know I'm shit at this, okay? You didn't need to rub it in.”

“You're not...” Mark pushed the blankets back. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm...” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “You're just braver than me, okay? I couldn't do...” He gestured at the door. “You know. That.”

“What, six feet of gorgeous guy with an enormous cock? I know. It's really difficult.”

“No...” He swung his legs off the side of the bed, looking at the guarded pose of his friend, the raised, expectant eyebrow. “You push me, okay? And it's nice. But... not about this, okay? Please.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Kian chewed his lip. “Is something going on with you? You've been really antsy since the reunion.”

“Just... stuff.” He reached out a hand, saw Kian glance at it for a moment, then hesitantly start to head over. The mattress rolled when he sat down. “I'm in a shitty place. It's not your fault. You're amazing.”

“You can talk about it if you want.”

“I can't. But thanks.” He wrapped an arm around Kian's waist. A hand squeezed his knee. “I'm trying to sort myself out. Be patient with me?” He pouted, looking up, saw Kian start to smirk a little when he turned on the puppy-dog eyes. Then break into giggles when he rested his head on a strong shoulder, looking up, putting on a quiet pleading whimper. He got a shove, then a hug. “Sorry.” He murmured. “I'm an arsehole.”

“Yeah you are.” Kian smiled, kissing his forehead. “Okay. I'll lay off.” He ran fingers through Mark's hair. “Can I ask a favour, though?” Mark nodded. “If I don't make it home tonight, can you get a start on tidying up for the house-warming? People should start showing up around one.”

“I can do that.” He pulled back. “Sorry, your guy's probably waiting.”

“It's fine.” Kian stood, stretching slightly. He did look nice, in dress jeans and a nice jacket. “I'm off. Be good, okay?” Mark nodded, thinking maybe if he went to get his laptop now he could be jerking off before the car made it out of the drive. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” The door closed a minute later. Mark sighed, looking around at his empty bedroom.

Fuck it.

 

*

 

If Kian had been home he probably would have closed Mark's laptop, taken the bottle out of his hand, and dragged him up to bed. Instead he was doing something that was objectively stupid but had ceased to matter around the halfway point of the bottle of Jack Daniels.

Stalking his ex-boyfriend on the internet. There was a quality idea.

He'd just started out looking at porn. He hadn't gotten off in a while, sat there for a bit watching some guy get ploughed over a desk. It was fine. The bigger guy had kind of a hairy arse, but that was okay. He finished before they did, turned it off without really needing to know whether the bottom had gotten that promotion he was interviewing for.

And then he'd just started clicking around.

He'd found Kevin's work page first. It was the same as always. Lots of pictures from shoots he'd done, though there were a few new ones. He found the old MySpace page too, but Kevin had been talking about switching to Facebook for a while so he tried that next. He didn't have an account himself. Neither did Kian, though he'd mentioned that some people he knew said it was pretty good. It sounded like a hell of a lot of effort.

He found Kevin's page pretty easily, though.

The picture of him was cute. Smiling away and waving at the camera. He had it set to private, so all Mark could see was a bunch of profile picture updates. He clicked on 'about', wondering if he could find anything there.

_Kevin McDaid is in a relationship with..._

Well... fuck.

Fuck.

Fucking fucking fuck.

The phone was to his ear before he even knew he'd dialled it. He realised belatedly that it was almost midnight but couldn't make himself care. Voicemail kicked in and when he heard the familiar voice he almost fell out of his chair.

It beeped.

“Hi. So. Fuck you.” He managed, then paused, staring at the screen. A cheerful face looked back at him, hand raised in a wave. “You fucking... prick. In a relationship, right? The day after we...” He couldn't finish, knew this sounded bloody ridiculous and wanted to throw up a little bit. Wanted to smash the phone. “I... I fucked some guy. Twice. He was better than you, so...” He thunked his head against the desk. Whatever. The guy Kevin was with was better looking than him anyway. Of course he was. He wasn't drunk in his pyjamas with his cock still sticky with spunk.

The phone beeped. An upbeat female voice came on the line.

” _To save your message, press one. To delete and record again, press two.”_

He pressed two, ended the call, and buried his face in his hands. Knew there would probably be a missed call showing on Kevin's screen and couldn't bloody care.

He was about to close the laptop when he paused, setting the bottle down on the desk and picking up the mouse. He hovered over the recycling bin for a long moment, full up with the pictures he'd deleted a few weeks before and hadn't been able to get rid of for good.

Right click.

_Are you sure you want to permanently delete these 147 files?_

He pressed yes.

Sat back, staring at the screen for a long time while it glowed pointless and blue back at him.

Then he closed the laptop, picked up the bottle, and headed back to bed.

 

*

 

When Kian wandered back in it was almost eleven, a spring in his step and a box of donuts under his arm. Mark had woken up about an hour before, was trying to have a bit of a tidy as promised but was nursing a raging headache as a result of falling asleep with an almost empty bottle propped up against his chest, then waking in the middle of the night desperately thirsty and needing to throw up.

“Morning.” Kian looked sleepy, but cheerful. Mark smiled back. The last thing he wanted to do was let on about last night. It was too painful, way too embarrassing, especially when he was supposed to be getting past it.

Getting past it didn't include drunk-dialling your ex at midnight and chickening out of leaving a voicemail.

He took a donut, nibbled it gratefully, and got coffee on while Kian ran upstairs to shower. When he came back down he was in a clean pair of shorts and a shirt that looked a little less like it had been ripped off him.

“Good night?”

“Not bad.” He smiled down into the coffee Mark put in front of him. “I think I like this one.”

“Didn't you like the last one?”

“Yeah, but that was sex like. This is like like.”

“Right.” Mark sank down into the other chair, dunking his donut carefully into the coffee. “So you didn't have sex?”

“Oh, we had sex.” An impish smirk flitted over Kian's mouth. “But, like, I think we could have not had sex and I'd still want to see him again. He's one of those guys that asks you things and looks actually interested in the answers. It was weird. Like, I'm rambling on and realise he's actually _listening_. It was bizarre.”

“Weird.” Mark teased, nudging him. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” Kian blushed a little, looking pleased. “You mind if he comes today? I invited him.”

“Course. It's your house too.”

“Yeah. I know. Just... he's new and stuff. I didn't want to rush it. He said he wanted to meet you, though, and I just thought...”

“Why does he want to meet me?”

“I was talking about you. You know. About how we've known each other our whole lives and that. I mean, you're in all my stories. I think he was starting to wonder if we were a thing or something, but it was just like 'and then this happened and Mark was there'.” Kian shrugged. Mark smiled. It was probably true. People got that impression a lot. “You're a legend already.

“I've always been a legend.” He took another sip of his coffee, heard Kian laugh through the pounding in his head. “I don't know that I'm that interesting though. I'm really fucking hungover.”

“Big night?”

“Sort of. Thought I'd have some me time.”

“You wipe up the stains?”

“Did my best.” He yawned. “Seen the one where the lad's getting a job interview?”

“The one on Randy Blue or PornHub?”

“XTube.” He mumbled, closing his eyes. Top's got a hairy arse. Bottom keeps his suit on.”

“Don't think so.” Kian hummed thoughtfully. “I saw the one where the guy's desk ornament is conveniently the right size for insertion.”

“Sounds fun.” Mark admitted. “Got it saved?”

“Yeah. I'll send you the link.” Kian drained the rest of his coffee, then stood, patting him gently on the back of the head. “Come on. Help me set up the garden table, then you can pass out while I sort food.”

“Thanks.” Mark pushed himself to his feet. “Right. Let's do this.”

 

*

 

Mark wished that he was less hungover for this, because suddenly the house was filled with people he hadn't seen in ages, all of whom were asking how he was. He wanted to say that he felt better than he looked, but when he'd seen himself in the bathroom mirror he figured they matched up pretty well. He asked how they were in return, but keeping all the information straight was difficult when it all kept falling out of his head as soon as he tried to walk in a straight line.

Kian seemed upbeat, though, was dashing around the garden with food and drinks and laughing with everyone. Mark snuck back inside for a moment's quiet, was standing blankly in front of the fridge when the doorbell rang.

It seemed a long way away but he made it in the end, tugged it open.

“Hey.” Shane smiled. Nicky was behind him, leaned against the wall. “Sorry we're late.”

“It's fine.” Mark's eyes caught on Nicky. Of course Kian had invited them. Why wouldn't he? They were people he knew, and he'd invited everyone else. He stepped aside to let them in, taking a couple of bags of crisps from Shane's hands and ushering them through. “So, come in.”

“This is nice.” Shane glanced around. “Tour?”

“Sure.” Mark nodded. “Definitely. Let me just...” He dumped the chips in the kitchen, took the sixpack from Nicky's hands and managed to fit it into the fridge despite having to play a bit of tetris to make it go. “Right. Kitchen...” He gestured. And fuck, Nicky looked good today. Skinny jeans and a white shirt that probably should have had something underneath. He wandered through, showed them the living room, then down the back hall to the bathroom.

“Might pitstop here.” Shane admitted. “You mind?”

“Course not.” Mark laughed, gesturing him through. “Want me to wait? It's an extra fee for holding up the tour.”

“It's cool. I'll meet you outside.” He pecked Nicky on the cheek. “Grab me a beer, babe?” The door shut a second later, leaving Mark stood awkwardly in the hall with Nicky. They both shifted, Nicky scratching his hair.

“So... hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky grimaced. “Ehm... you look well.”

“I look like shit. I'm really hungover.” Mark laughed, got a nervous smile back. “So...”

“Mm.” Nicky sighed, edging away from the door and out of earshot. Mark started heading back to the kitchen, tugged a couple of beers out of the fridge and handed one over. “I like your place.”

“Thanks.” Mark nodded. “Still getting used to where everything is, you know? Like, best places to eat and all? We found the supermarket at least.”

“There's a place about three blocks over, does the best fish and chips. Fries, just over from the surf club. Fantastic.”

“Yeah?” They looked at each other. “So... you live nearby, or?”

“Oh. Sort of.” Nicky nodded. “I grew up here. Just down the road, actually. Like, twenty minute walk. My parents still live here.”

“Really?” Mark blinked, surprised. “Where you living now?”

“Not far.” Nicky smiled. “We're just up in Malahide at the moment, though Shane wants to move a bit closer into the city for work. I think he's mad. Like, who needs that kind of rent, right? The traffic's murder, but it's not my fault he's a sook who won't get the train. I prefer it out a bit from the city. It's quieter. And now that we're living together...”

“How's that going?”

“Fine. Nice. Getting used to it. You know.” Nicky shrugged. “I... ehm... look, thank you for not dropping me in it. I do appreciate it.”

“None of my business.” Mark raised his hands in defence, got a weak smile in return. “I can't exactly judge. I'm a bloody disaster, so...”

“Yeah.” Nicky snorted. “Well, I can't say I've got it together either.” He tilted his head slightly, and Mark felt his skin crawl a little when eyes drifted over him. “Look, Kian and Shane have been talking a lot and I get the feeling we're probably going to end up seeing a lot more of each other, so...”

Kian and Shane? Had they? Mark hadn't heard anything about it, didn't even think Shane's name had been mentioned since they'd gotten back. Though he'd seen Kian on the phone a few times, gabbing away with someone. Mark hadn't thought to ask who it had been, just figured it was one of his two hundred bloody siblings or someone.

A hand reached out. Mark blinked at it, not sure what it meant.

“So, fresh start?” Nicky asked. Mark nodded carefully, stretching out his own hand. It wasn't like he had a choice. What was he going to say? Get out of my house because I'm halfway between blurting everything out to everyone and throwing you to the kitchen tiles and having you right here? Neither of those options seemed at all good.

“Fresh start.” He agreed. “Friends.”

“Friends.” Nicky agreed. “Okay. Cool.” A relieved breath whooshed out of him. Mark was still holding his. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Mark twisted the top off his beer, thinking that sobriety could get fucked right about now, regardless of how hungover he was. “Okay. Well... I'll see you outside.”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “See you there.”

 

*

 

The rest of the party went well enough, he supposed. Kian introduced him to Brian, who really was very cute, with a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes. They shook hands, Mark handed him a beer, and that was about it. He did catch the two of them making out in the upstairs hallways about half an hour later, so that was nice. It was good to see Kian happy. Even if the lad was about two feet taller than him and probably getting a crick in his neck.

People drifted out late that evening, the last couple of stragglers staggering off into the darkness. Almost nine, when he checked his watch. When he went out to start clearing up plates and cups, he realised Nicky and Shane were still there, sitting on the rock wall and looking out over the beach.

“Hey, lads.” He nodded, beginning to stuff rubbish in a garbage bag. Shane glanced over.

“Sorry, we're overstaying.”

“It's fine.” He shrugged. “Kian's fella's still here. We're going to take some leftovers down to the beach for dinner if you want to stay.” He watched Shane look at Nicky, the two of them nodding and shrugging at each other until Nicky turned back around.

“Yeah. Cheers.”

“Grand.” He swept the contents of the garden table into the bag with one arm. Shane hopped down off the wall and began to help, Nicky too a moment later. Before long almost everything was in the bin. Nicky dropped in the last paper cup, and as he did their hands brushed. Mark jerked his hand back, looked up to see Nicky doing the same, both of them swallowing.

“Sorry.” Nicky murmured. Mark knotted the bag without comment. It was in the bin around the side of the house a minute later. He paused there, hidden from the two of them, trying to throw off the racing tingle that had settled into the spot Nicky had touched.

Fuck.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh... _oh..._ ”

He could hear Kian. Had been able to hear Kian for the last half an hour, ever since he and his boyfriend had disappeared upstairs to 'get an early night', as though any of them really thought that was what was happening. Two weeks in and they were still going at it like rabbits. He'd forgotten how loud Kian was in bed. Hadn't really had the pleasure of hearing it since they'd last cohabited, though you couldn't say he wasn't enthusiastic. Really inventive when it came to swearing as well.

“Fuck... oh...” There was a long, breathless wail petering out into a rhythmic grunt that almost sounded like sweat. Mark heard Brian laugh, heard the bed thump the wall. “Oh god, oh Jesus, oh fucking fucking christing fucking... aah!” There was a last, determined thump. Then it stopped. Mark sniggered to himself, turning back to his book. There was bloody nothing on TV, but he wasn't really tired enough for bed. They'd only just come back in from dinner, anyway.

It was bloody sobering, sitting around a table with Kian and his boyfriend, Nicky and his boyfriend, and then himself and...

Well, an empty chair. Though the chair was good company while everyone else was looking loved up and happy.

He knew he was being petulant. It wasn't as bad as all that. They'd had a really good time, hanging out and laughing, telling stupid stories and working their way through a few bottles of wine. All the lads were good craic, even if the Nicky thing was a bit uncomfortable, but he was trying his best to work past it. It was a bit difficult when Kian was always organising things, but Mark couldn't exactly begrudge him that. Shane was a good laugh. And as far as Kian knew it was just hanging out with mates.

The thumping started up again a minute later.

Oh good. Round two.

Probably time to go to bed.

He switched off all the lights and headed upstairs. The thumping was still going but after a few minutes it stopped. He snuggled down, all ready to go to sleep.

Then realised he'd left his phone downstairs.

He heaved himself back up. Not that he was going to be making any calls at this time of night, but they had an early morning gig at a car show and his alarm was probably going to be a necessity. He snuck back downstairs quietly, not wanting to disturb the other lads when they were probably drifting in a post-coital doze.

It took him a minute to realise the kitchen light was on.

Kian yelped.

“Mark!”

“Sorry!” He covered his eyes, not needing to see his friend in that particular state. The one where he was stood in front of the open fridge, still a bit flushed and sticky, completely sans clothes.

“Jesus...” When he opened his eyes Kian was hiding behind the fridge door. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I thought _you_ were asleep.” Mark laughed, trying to get the image of Kian's cock from being burned into his retinas. “Just came to get my phone. What are you doing?”

“Water.” Kian explained. “Brian's a bit... uhm... parched.”

“I just bet he is.” Mark snorted. “Right, well...” He turned away, headed back toward the living room. He was halfway through when Kian called out his name. “Yeah?”

“No, um...” Kian grabbed a teatowel to cover himself, then closed the fridge door. Mark almost burst out laughing. The teatowel wasn't big enough to cover much of anything, was white and embroidered with little yellow and black bumblebees. It had been a housewarming gift from Kian's mother. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like him?”

“Who?” Mark glanced upstairs. “Your fella?” Kian nodded. “He's fine. I don't know him that well.”

“Oh.” Kian bit his lip. “You'd tell me if you didn't?”

“Why do you care?” Mark shrugged. “It didn't matter if I liked the others.”

“Did you?”

“What, your other boyfriends?” Kian hitched a bashful shoulder. “Some of them seemed okay. I don't know.” He stepped closer, sighing. “Do you want me to give him a seal of approval or something?”

“I guess. I don't know. I like him. I just don't want to...”

“Get five years in and find out everyone thought he was a tosser?” Mark finished. Kian's cheeks went a little red. “I really can't judge, Ki. He seems nice It's only been a few weeks.”

“Okay.” Kian huffed out a breath, looking frustrated. “If he acts like a prick, like, to you or to anyone, will you let me know?”

“Why would he?”

“I don't know!” Kian exclaimed. “He's too perfect. I don't like...” He sighed. “Fuck.” Mark snorted, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. “I like this one. I don't want to find out he's an arsehole.”

“Maybe he isn't?” Mark suggested. “Maybe he's just a nice guy.”

“That'd be worse. Then it'll be me who fucks it up.”

“You won't fuck it up.”

“Course I will. That's what I do.” Kian groaned. “If I start acting like a tit, please stop me?”

“Stop acting like a tit.”

“Thanks.” They both huffed out awkward laughs. “Sorry you saw my bits.”

“I'll never recover.” Mark snorted. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. I'm not usually, so it's sort of hard to judge, you know? Like, this seems quite good, comparatively speaking.”

“You're not usually okay?” Mark asked, concerned. Kian was his role model for 'okay'. Not fantastic, obviously, but he seemed to bounce from one disappointment to another with a kind of reckless abandon that said he'd packed it all up and was off to try again. Mark was the opposite. One disappointment and he was throwing it all in, as the last few months could definitely attest.

“I am. I think it's just getting...” Kian shrugged. “Harder. You know. Like, it fucking hurts when things go shit, but now I'm getting older and it feels personal.” He was still holding the towel, but he leaned against the kitchen counter, his face looking a little downcast. “I want to like... do all that stuff, you know? Like, you know I wasn't Kevin's biggest fan but I was so jealous of you two for having that. Someone who was there all the time. I don't...” He sighed. “Like, I want to get married and settle down one day and yeah, I get to have a lot of good sex with a lot of cool guys, but I'd rather sit and watch telly and snuggle up on the couch and know he's going to be there the next day.”

“Ki...” Mark leant in, pulling him into a hug. He knew Kian was naked, but there wasn't much point bothering about it. The towel landed on his feet when both arms came around his shoulders. “I had no idea.” Though he had, sort of. Just been too wrapped up in his own shit to notice properly. “Softie.”

“Mm.” He felt Kian relax slightly, ran his hand up a broad back. “Guess I've got you instead, huh? At least you're tidy.”

“I do like watching telly.” Mark added. “That's practically a relationship.”

“Fuck off.” Kian snorted, looking up. Mark looked down. He felt Kian shift, twist slightly in his arms, and oh. Um. “Oh.” Kian winced. “Erm... Sorry.”

“It's fine.” Mark laughed. “You want me to get your teatowel?”

“Yeah, bend down while I'm like this. There's a good idea.” His friend winced. “Wait...” He shifted, foot grappling to snag the teatowel, shoulder dropping while he tried to grab it off his bent up toes. “There we go.” He clasped it back over himself. They both laughed awkwardly. “Right, well...”

“Right.” Mark smirked. “Your fella's upstairs.”

“He is. Yeah.” Kian chewed his lip, looking thoughtful. Mark stared back. “Marky?”

“Yeah?”

“Um...” Kian leant in.

It was unexpected, as far as kisses went. Barely even a kiss. Their lips brushed together for half a moment, Kian's eyes falling closed, and then it was over. Mark swallowed, feeling a tendril of heat twist through him. Kian stepped back, eyes opening.

“Erm.” He said. Kian blinked.

“Ehm.” He was going bright red. “So, goodnight.”

“Night.” Mark said blankly.

Kian ran up the stairs a minute later, the bedroom door slamming shut behind him.

 

*

 

They didn't mention the kiss.

After a few weeks Mark started to think it had never happened. That maybe he'd been imagining it all, that it had been a dream or something. Kian kept going out with Brian. He was over a lot, the two of them snuggled up on the other end of the couch while they watched TV or mucking around on their guitars, playing loud rock music before they'd inevitably get distracted and start snogging. Mark liked him enough. He was interesting and funny, and he and Kian got on really well, were always having noisy sex upstairs or making out in the kitchen.

Kian spent a lot of time at Brian's too. It was funny, but Mark wasn't sure if he missed Kian more when he was out or when he was home, all wrapped up in someone else, Mark feeling a little like a stranger in his own house. He was happy for Kian, of course. Maybe Kian was right, maybe he did need to start dating. Just to get the hell out of the house, but...

He was home on his own one night when Kevin called.

It had been almost three weeks since his deleted voicemail, that stupid drunken night. He was sober tonight, sitting on the couch with a salad and not really watching The X Factor. Simon Cowell was telling someone they were terrible. In fairness, they sort of were. Kian had joked a few times that Mark should try out, win them some pocket money, but Mark couldn't think of anything worse than standing up there and having people judge him. He could sing, yeah, but he didn't need Louis Walsh telling him he looked fat in a suit.

He fumbled the phone off the couch next to him, not even looking at the caller ID. He was a bit surprised, then, when a familiar voice spoke.

“Mark?”

He didn't know how to reply, sat with his mouth open for a long time, brain totally disengaged. It wasn't until he heard his name again that he swallowed, tried to get his tongue moving, and managed to reply.

“...Kevin?”

“Hey.” The voice was soft, unsure. “Hi. Um...”

“Hi.” He managed. “What, ehm...”

“I...” There was a laugh. “Sorry. Hi. I was just... I was going through my missed calls and I realised you'd... I just thought I'd check in case it was important or...” Mark felt himself go bright red. There was a swallow on the other end. “Anyway.”

“Oh I... I didn't. Call. Erm.” It was a lie, but fuck it. “Maybe I sat on it or something. Sorry.”

“No. That's... fine.” Kevin sighed, sounding about as relieved as Mark felt. Just as uncomfortable too. “Okay. Well. I'll um... see you, then.”

“Yeah.” Mark agreed.

“Yeah.”

“Right.” Mark swallowed. “Hey... how long were you cheating on me?” He said it without thinking. Didn't know if he wanted to know the answer. But the time for politeness was dead and gone and fuck it, he might as well.

“...I wasn't.”

“Funny.” Mark's own voice sounded flat and hard to his ears. “How long?”

“I...” There was a heavy pause. Mark felt his heart claw up the inside of his throat. “Six months.” Kevin said quietly. “On and off. Mostly off. It was just...” He sighed. “I didn't want to hurt you.”

Mark hung up on him. Threw the phone at the wall.

When Kian got home he was sat on the floor, curled up into a ball with an empty bottle of wine next to him, trying not to throw up or cry.

 

*

 

“Why did you even ask?”

“Don't know.” Kian had dragged him up to bed, climbed in as well. The blankets were up to their necks and Mark couldn't decide if he was too drunk or not drunk enough. “I mean, I knew he had, but maybe I just wanted to hear him say it. Just to be honest or...” He shook his head. “Stupid me, right?”

“Not your cleverest move.” Kian smirked. “Why the hell are you doing this to yourself? It's bloody stupid.” Mark opened his mouth, all ready to be offended. Closed it again.

“Really bloody stupid.” He rolled over onto his front to bury his face in the pillow. “Am I an insufferable, depressing git? I feel like I am.”

“Do you want me to be honest or are you going to get pissed off at me?”

“Both?”

“Yeah, you kind of are.” A hand cupped the back of his head. He groaned. “He's not in your life any more. Stop letting him make you miserable. You're being a twat. I'm sick of it. Watching you all hunched up at one end of the couch looking pissed off all the time. It's boring. You used to be fun, and interesting, and you used to _care_ about things. Now you look like you're about five seconds from apologising for something, or complaining about something, or getting annoyed at me for being happy. It sucks.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.” An arm draped over his back. “I know you are. And I'm not annoyed at you. You'll be back eventually, but I don't want you staying miserable longer than you have to be. It feels like you're doing it on purpose, like you're guilty for something.”

“Yeah.” Mark swallowed. “Kian?”

“Yeah.”

“I did something stupid. Accidentally, but...” He looked over. “I... I had sex with someone. Someone who was in a relationship and...” He saw Kian's eyebrows lift in surprise. “Am I a terrible person?”

“Who was it?”

“Doesn't matter. Just some guy.” He buried his face back in the pillow. “And I keep thinking if I did that then what fucking right do I have to be upset? But...”

“Were you with Kevin when you did it?”

“No.” He shook his head, looked back over at Kian. “He thought it was over with his guy, but then it wasn't. And now they're back together and the guy doesn't know and... like, should I tell him?”

“Would you want to know if it was you?” Mark shrugged. The noble part of him said yes, the coward said no. No, he wouldn't, probably. Not from the guy on the side. He'd want it straight from the horse's mouth or not at all.

“I don't know.”

“Yeah.” Kian sidled in a little closer. “You want to know what I think?” Mark nodded. “It's none of your business.” Mark opened his mouth to protest, but Kian shook his head. “It's not. It's not your relationship, they chose to fuck you when they were with someone else. Their decision, their relationship, their problem. Not yours. Are you still fucking them?”

“No. I mean, when I found out I... I wouldn't...”

“Exactly.” Kian smiled. “Is this why you've been so miserable?” He chuckled. “Dickhead. Stop it, okay?” Mark shrugged. “Really. Fucking stop it. Come here...” He pulled Mark into a hug. “You're such an adorable moron.” A kiss brushed his forehead. Mark found a pained smile tugging at his mouth, arms wrapping tighter around him. “Why didn't you tell me? We used to talk about everything.”

Mark shook his head, not able to answer that. Kian sighed.

“Sook.” Was whispered gently against his ear. He snorted a laugh, felt fingers brush the hair from his ear. “You're a big, sweet idiot, Feehily.”

“Thanks.” He huffed. There was a laugh, a nose nuzzling his cheek. He turned to argue, to say something about something.

His lips met Kian's.

It was unintentional. Chance. Both of them turning at the same time and then there was a mouth brushing his, eyes just there, and maybe he was drunk. Completely stupidly tipsy and emotional, but...

It turned into a kiss without him meaning it too, lips parting against his. Kian made a noise of surprise but it was followed rapidly by a tongue meeting his, soft and testing, a hand coming up to hold Mark's face still while they both tilted into it. Kian tasted good. Really good. Felt good, fingers curving to his cheek, brushing his ear while a gasping breath hummed between them, Kian sucking in air while they connected again, Mark moaning softly at the feel of teeth scraping gently over his bottom lip.

“Oh.” Mark swallowed when they parted. Kian was breathing hard, staring at him with wide, startled eyes. “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Kian's fingers touched to his own lips. They were a little swollen. “Erm... that was an accident.”

“Yeah. Whoops. Uh...” Eyes were searching his. “I should go to sleep. Or something.”

“Yeah. I should... go to bed. Big day tomorrow. Work.” Kian was climbing off the bed, stumbling a bit while he caught in the sheets. He staggered to his feet. “Uh. Night. So.”

“Night.” Mark said numbly. He watched Kian swallow hard. “Okay.”

Kian staggered from the room, not glancing back over his shoulder.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Things were awkward in the van the next morning. It was like they were in a vacuum, both moving in silence, skirting around each other. Mark hadn't spoken, hadn't really known what to say. Neither had Kian except to mumble a good morning when they got up and to swear under his breath when they'd gotten stuck in traffic on the way to the farmer's market, hands tightening on the wheel.

Now Mark was trying to set up the waffle iron while Kian counted through the money with a fierce, silent determination.

He'd kissed Kian.

Or Kian had kissed him.

They'd... kissed each other.

And it had been...

It had sort of been okay, actually.

Really, really okay.

Um.

“Have...” He swallowed when he saw Kian look up. Not at him, though. Out the window, eyes barely flicking to him while he tensed. “Have you seen the maple syrup?”

“Is it with the other syrups?” Kian's voice was quiet. Mark swallowed.

“I...” He looked down. “Oh. Yeah. There it is.” He paused, heard Kian breathe in the silence of the van. “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Kian bit his lip, going back to the money.

“Do you want me to do the board? I can...”

“Whatever you like.” Coins clinked into the tray

“Do you want to swap today? I can do money and you can cook or...”

“I really don't mind.” Kian's voice was flat. Mark reached out to touch his elbow, feeling a low pang of misery settle into his gut. The elbow twitched away. “Please don't.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “Right.” He turned away again, letting out a breath and trying to centre himself a bit. He'd seen enough of Kian's moods over the years to know this wasn't a good one, and even more of them to know when he was the culprit. It didn't make this any easier.

He slipped out of the van and ducked around the front to the chalkboard. He was about to ask for the chalk when it was handed out the window silently, Kian leaning on the sill and looking out at the market stalls slowly getting themselves set up.

“It didn't happen.” He said finally, just as Mark was finishing. Mark looked up, distracted from trying to write the specials in a legible hand. There was already chalkdust half down his wrist.

“Sorry?”

“It didn't.” Fingers tightened on the edge of the sill. “You were drunk, it was a stupid thing, it never happened.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” Kian looked at him, finally, though his eyes were dull and confused. “You're my best friend, okay? You're the only decent thing I've got and I'm not going to fuck it up by having us kiss. I can't. It's...” He ran a trembling hand over his face. Mark reached over, covering the one still on the windowsill with his own.

“It's okay.” Blue eyes locked on him. “It didn't happen.” He hesitated. Felt his stomach twist. “What about the one a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah.” Kian breathed. Mark squeezed his hand. “Maybe us living together was a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Because...” There were tears in Kian's eyes now. Mark put down the chalk. Wanted to go back inside so they could talk face to face but didn't want to let Kian out of his sight for the time that would take. He was only half a foot below Kian's eyeline but it felt like miles. “What's wrong with me? Like, am I doing this shit on purpose somehow? I have a boyfriend for once. A really nice, decent guy that respects me and... and the first thing I fucking do is...” He looked away. “And I missed you so much and now I'm fucking that up too. Like...”

“You're not...” Mark leaned up a little, trying to at least get eye contact. Kian shook his head. “Ki, it was an accident. We're still friends.”

Kian shook his head, disappearing inside the van. When Mark went around, heart heavy, his friend was standing in front of the hotplate, shaking a bottle of waffle batter.

“You do the customers today, okay?” He was facing away, voice shaking slightly. “I can't right now.”

“We can just pack up and...”

“Just... go over there.” Kian bit out. Mark nodded, doing as he was told. Kian had turned the hotplate on. He could feel the swelling heat in the air.

He brushed the chalkdust off his wrist, leaning on the window and waiting for the first customers to show up.

 

*

 

“That's my hotel.” Shane announced, holding out a hand. “Pay up, Feehily.”

“Shit.” He squinted down at his money. He didn't know who the fuck had suggested Monopoly, but it was a fairly dreadful way to have spent the last three hours. Shane and Nicky had just shown up late that afternoon, a six-pack in hand, and suddenly they'd been arguing over who was going to be the thimble. “That's me bankrupt. I can sell you some of my properties?”

“What, the ones you've got mortgaged already? No thanks.” Shane snorted. “Bad investment.”

“I love it when you talk accountant.” Nicky smirked. Shane laughed, kicking him lightly. Nicky had bowed out almost half an hour before after trying to beg Kian repeatedly to give him a loan. He was competitive, Nicky. Had sulked for almost ten minutes before getting distracted by a plate of crackers and dip Kian brought out. Now he was slumped on the couch behind Shane, one hand dangling halfway to the floor, eyes sleepy and bored.

“I can give you the last railroad?”

“Or I can just buy it myself when you forfeit it.”

“I give it to Kian then.” Mark said smugly. “He can have it for a fiver.”

“You'll still lose.”

“Don't care. Makes it harder for you to win.” He handed the card to Kian. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” Kian snorted. Things had been okay the last few days. There had been awkwardness for about a week, and then as promised had settled as though it had never happened. He hadn't seen Brian round since, though, and wondered what that was about. Though Kian had gone out with him once or twice, dashing down to the car and not inviting him in. “You and me, Shay.”

“Like old times.” Shane laughed. “T-Birds.”

“Oh god, not the glory days again.” Nicky sighed. Mark sniggered. “You know how many times I've heard this story?”

“As many as I have?” Mark laughed.

“You were there!” Shane retorted.

“I know, and I'm already bored of it.”

Nicky smirked. “See? Even Mark's bored. I'm bored. We're playing fucking Monopoly, for fuck's sake.”

“No, you're losing at Monopoly.” Kian peered at his properties while Shane rolled the dice. “I've got a whole railroad and I'm about to pass Go.”

“Well, congratulations.” Nicky sat up. “Let's do something, yeah? It's eight at night. Let's go get trashed like we're young again or something.”

“I am young. You're the one who's thirty.”

“And still looking twenty-six.” Nicky smirked. They all groaned. “What?”

Mark sighed, getting up to get another beer. He didn't mind having Nicky round, not really, but it felt wrong. Like their burgeoning friendship was a complete betrayal of Shane. Nicky still hadn't told him, that much was clear, and Mark couldn't make himself do it. They looked happy. They looked totally adorable and completely happy.

When he came back they were packing up the board.

“What happened?”

“I landed on three hotels.” Kian sighed. Shane was still pumping his fists above his head, looking pathetically excited at winning such a dull game. Nicky stood up.

“Let's go out.” He urged, nudging Shane's shoulder. He got a pained look, then a grudging grimace.

“Two more beers.” Shane suggested. “Then I'll take you somewhere.”

“We'll come.” Kian stretched. Mark stared at him. What was this we? “Won't we?”

Mark sighed and went to get them all some more drinks.

 

*

 

“Look fucking happy!” Nicky demanded. They were leaned against the wall near the toilets while Shane and Kian went to the bar, nudging each other and giggling like idiots. They'd been like this for a few hours, all over each other and reminiscing about old times, as though the old times had actually been any good.

“Well, now that you've told me to...”

Nicky shook his head. “Come on. How long have you and whatsisknob been broken up?”

“Six months?” God, had it been that long already? It couldn't be. That was bloody madness. Which just made him feel more pathetic, not moving on. A hand clapped down his shoulder.

“That's a really long fucking time. Go shag someone.”

“Remember what happened last time I did that?” Nicky at least blushed a little at that one. Mark cocked an eyebrow, feeling surprisingly smug. Then Nicky frowned.

“Wait, that was the last time you had sex?” Mark shrugged. “Fucking really? That was almost six months ago!” Two hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing. “Christ, no wonder you look so miserable. Your plumbing must be backed up halfway to your kidneys.”

“Thanks.” Mark drawled, got a shrug in reply. “I'm fine.”

“You need to get laid.”

“Yeah, Kian's mentioned that.”

“What have I done?” They were back. Mark took his vodka, took a sip to try to distract the conversation.

“Mark needs to get laid.”

“What's that got to do with me?” Kian's mouth twitched awkwardly. Jesus, was there anyone here he hadn't fucked things up with?

“You said he needs to get laid.”

“It's come up.” Kian glanced away, rolling his eyes. Mark felt a prickle of annoyance twinge in the back of his skull. “Not my business.”

“He's getting laid.” Nicky crossed his arms. “I am getting you laid.”

“My hero.” Mark took another sip of his drink. “I'm really okay.” He glanced at Kian, who was looking away, at Nicky, who was trying too hard to look normal, at Shane, who was bloody oblivious.

Fuck.

“Okay, fuck it, get me laid.” He saw Kian look up in surprise, saw a triumphant grin flash across Nicky's face. “No freaks.”

“Freaks are the best kind!”

“No freaks.” Mark warned. Shane laughed. “Just someone...” He could already see Nicky looking around, standing on tiptoe to better see the crowd.

“Drink that.” Nicky demanded, pointing at his drink. “And give me five minutes.”

 

*

 

“Him.”

“No.”

“Him.”

“No!”

“What about him?”

Mark shook his head, grimacing.

“Why fucking not?”

“Because.” He swallowed another mouthful. It was supposed to be courage, was alcohol, but he felt suddenly bloody terrified. Nicky had made him dance with four lads now, introduced him to three more, and he was still feeling thoroughly awkward and shitty. He'd never liked the chat-up, not when he'd been single the first time, and at least then he'd been young enough to not care. Now all he could think about was the fact that he'd had sex with two people in five years and neither had gone well.

That he had gotten fat and sad, sitting at home alone and eating biscuits.

That the idea of getting his clothes off in front of anyone was about the worst thing he could think of right now, as Nicky brought cute boys up and they all looked a little disappointed that Mark was the one Nicky was talking about.

“He's cute!”

“I know.” Mark bit his lip. “Look, maybe bring me one that's not as cute, yeah? Then we'll be in the same league. Like, all us fives hanging out together.”

“You're not a five.” Nicky crossed his arms. “I don't do fives.”

“How can you talk about it?” He winced. “Seriously. Shane's...”

“You're not a five.” Nicky said again. “Eight at least.”

“Liar.”

“Seven and a half because you look like a fucking sadsack.” Kian and Shane were wandering over. “Kian. Give Mark a score out of ten.” His friend stared out them.

“In what?”

“You know. Like... I'm a solid nine, Shane's...” He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “Shane's my ten.”

“Inches.” Shane teased, nudging Nicky. They both giggled.

“What am I, then?” Kian asked.

“You...” Nicky tilted his head. “You are an eight.”

“Thanks.” Kian snorted, bending to sip his cocktail. “I'll put it on my CV.”

“He's more than an eight.” Shane argued. “Nine.”

“What, so you fancy him as much as you fancy me?” Nicky pouted.

“Eight.” Shane amended. “And I did used to fancy Kian. So there.”

“You did?” Kian looked up. Mark had to laugh, glad the conversation was distracted from him at least. “When was that?”

“High-school.” Shane laughed. “Like, a million years ago. I wasn't even admitting to myself I was gay, but shit I fancied you. And I won't often say that about boys with mullets.”

“You had a mullet?”

“It wasn't a mullet.” Kian glared. “I can't believe you fancied me.” Shane shrugged. “I fancied you!”

“You did not.”

“I did!” Kian laughed. “It's actually the main reason we went to the reunion!” He blushed a little, but he'd always gotten a bit loose-lipped when he was drunk. If you ever wanted the truth from him, a few beers tended to wash away the wall in his head that stopped every single thought from just coming out of his mouth. “I was going to hit on you.”

“No way.”

“Way!”

“Should I give you two a minute?” Nicky was looking between them slightly suspiciously.

“You're my ten, Nico.” Shane pecked his cheek. “Sorry, Kian.”

“Hey, no. No offence taken.” Kian laughed. “Ah, what might have been, right? We could be married by now.” But he looked a little sunken, his smile fraying slightly at the edges. Mark touched his back gently.

“Then I could be his bit on the side.” Nicky said brightly.

“No chance. You know how I feel about cheating.” Shane took another swallow from his drink, and when Mark looked up Nicky's smile was tensing. Mark stepped a little closer to Kian. “Not for a second. Dealbreaker. On the spot.”

“That's final.” Kian commented.

“Yeah, it is.” Shane shrugged. “I just...”

“Why don't we go for a dance or something.” Nicky tugged on his hand. “Come on.” Shane nodded, and Mark watched them go, weaving out onto the dancefloor. Mark and Kian looked at each other.

“Dance?” Mark suggested.

“Yeah.” Kian knocked back the last of his drink. “Come on.”

 

*

 

It was almost two in the morning when he saw Kevin.

They were looking at maybe heading somewhere else soon. This place had been grand, they were all officially on slippery slope to plastered, but the DJ had just changed and it was all this techno, house stuff you couldn't really dance to. Other people could, in fairness, but in between their complaining they'd all awkwardly realised that other people were about ten years younger than them and weren't whinging because nobody was playing Vengaboys or Black Box.

“What even is this? It's not bloody music.” Nicky was scowling at two girls who barely looked old enough to have the tattoos they were sporting. Kian laughed.

“I think this is what the kids are listening to.”

“It's shit. We used to have proper music.” Nicky took a swallow of his drink. “Remember you'd go dancing and it'd be quality stuff all night? This isn't even music. It's just... noise.”

“Or you're old.” Shane teased. Nicky pouted. “I always did like boys who were too old for me.”

“Like you're young, Shane. You're not even a year younger than me.” Nicky pushed him lightly, grimaced when he was pulled into a protesting hug. “Leggo.”

“No.” Shane kissed his ear. Nicky slumped, then started to giggle, turning into a hug. Kian rolled his eyes. Mark looked away, feeling a flood of sickly guilt.

...shit.

Oh shit.

“Fuck.” He whispered, turning away and covering the side of his face. Kian looked up.

“What?”

“Kevin.” He gestured over his shoulder, not at all prepared for the sudden well of emotion on seeing his ex-boyfriend, his face going red and his stomach twisting into a knot. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Kian craned his neck. “Let's get out of here.”

“What's going on?” Nicky was looking too, and Shane. Like the three fucking wise men, all being as conspicuous as humanly possible, gawking at Mark's ex-boyfriend who – he glanced over quickly – was here with a very cute boy. A very cute boy who had been snogging him on a pier only a few months ago.

“Mark's ex.” Kian explained.

“Oh no...” Shane winced. “Head off?”

“He's seen us.” Nicky announced. Mark groaned. “He's coming over.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Nicky shrugged uselessly. “Sorry."

“Got it.” Shane grabbed his wrist, and before Mark could say anything he was being yanked out onto the dancefloor, tugged away from Kian and Nicky. Arms looped around his neck, Shane pressing close, and he stared in confusion. “I'm your boyfriend.”

“Are you?”

“Yep. Just go with it.” Shane glanced over. Mark did too, afraid he'd see Kevin standing right next to them. But it appeared he'd stopped in his tracks, was a few feet from Kian and Nicky, looking hesitant. Mark looked back at Shane.

“Thanks.”

“It's fine.” Shane stepped in again, leaning his head in Mark's neck. Mark moved in a little closer. Hands slid into his back pockets, and they both giggled. “He's the one that cheated on you?”

“Yeah.” Kevin was still standing there, though his boyfriend had come over, was tugging gently on his hand and gesturing at the bar. “Or he had... an affair I guess. I suppose it's only cheating if they do it once, not for six fucking months with the same guy.” He felt himself go pink. “And two years before that. With the same guy.”

“Fucker.” Shane glanced over. “My last girlfriend cheated on me. You know. Last one before... well, Nicky I guess. I was madly in love with her and I found out she was sleeping with some guy. Absolutely ruined me.”

“You don't like girls, though.”

“Yeah, but we were still together. We were talking about getting settled, having kids, all that sort of stuff. I probably would have done it, too. I always wanted kids. And then I caught them...” Shane's face went a little red. “And yeah, she said it was just a moment of weakness or whatever, but every time I looked at her after that all I could see...” He shook his head. “Not doing it again.”

“So if Nicky cheated on you...”

“Nicky wouldn't cheat on me.” Shane was so sure it hurt. “But if he did...” They both looked over. Kian and Nicky were watching, both smirking. Kevin had gone. “No. Not because I don't love him, but because it would mean he wanted someone else, even for a second, and we'd both be lying to ourselves. It'd break my heart, but that'd be it. Otherwise we'd both be wasting our time.”

“People make mistakes.”

“Like your ex did?” Shane tilted his head. “If someone's the kind of person to cheat, they're the kind of person to do it again.” Mark felt his stomach twist. “Sorry, that sounded shitty.” They both pulled back a little. “But like... how much time did you waste by staying? Would you have, if you'd known this was going to happen?”

“No.” Mark admitted.

“Exactly.” Shane snuck a glance back over. “He's gone.” They separated, both laughing awkwardly. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Thank you.” Mark snorted. He felt okay, suddenly. He wasn't sure where Kevin had gone and found he didn't much care. When he went back over Kian pulled him into a hug. He hugged back, wishing he didn't feel quite so drunk.

“You okay?”

“I'm okay.” He pecked Kian's cheek. “Let's get out of here. The music's shit.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Days they got to go to the seaside were probably Mark's favourite. The carnivals were fine, yeah, and markets were fun too for a bit of sneaky shopping when they were quiet, but there was nothing like the smell of salt water, especially on a sunny day like today, when everyone was out in their swimsuits and...

“Hello, sailor.” Kian commented, leaning out the window. Mark looked too. He was very cute, muscles for days, wandering up the beach and dripping water from long, bedraggled hair. “Yum.”

“You have a boyfriend.” Mark reminded him.

“I can still window shop.” Kian craned his neck, watching until the man was out of sight. “I would ruin that.”

“I think he'd ruin you.”

“Good.” Kian purred, ducking back into the van. That was his other favourite part, watching Kian enjoy himself. He'd always looked more at ease at the beach. Mark was more of a country mouse, liked long walks through the woods by a lake, but Kian was in his element with sand, surf and sun. Mark had started to get up a little earlier, not because he couldn't sleep but because all of a sudden he seemed to have energy again. Maybe this was what getting over it was like. Misery, sure, floating around the edges like a cloud he couldn't quite shake, but being able to turn his back on it, not look at it unless he glanced around by mistake.

He'd started popping down to the beach, some of those mornings, to watch Kian surf. It was certainly entertaining, though there was a little knot in his stomach whenever Kian would fall and not come up straight away, when he'd get caught up in a wave and go tumbling. Then he'd pop back up, both he and Brian laughing and shoving each other, struggling back onto their boards.

It was cute.

He wasn't jealous.

“How is Brian, anyway? Haven't seen him in a bit.”

“He's been away for a couple of days.” Kian stretched. “Called me yesterday, actually. We're going out to dinner tonight. Said he wants to talk about something.”

“Ominous.”

“Wow, thanks Captain Optimism.” Kian punched him lightly. “He seemed okay, actually. We've been together three months, so maybe... I dunno. Maybe it's the...” He paused, looked at Mark. “You don't think it's the L word, do you?”

“Ooh...” Mark teased. Kian was going pink, looking a bit panicked. “You in love?”

“I don't know. I like him. Shit.” He bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. “Shit. Um.” He looked at Mark. “Shit, Mark.”

“Okay, calm down.” Mark pulled him into a hug. “You don't know what it's about yet. Maybe it's just a nice dinner.”

“Yeah, but he said he wants to _talk_.” Kian ran both hands over his face. “So either it's something good or something bad, or... or I don't fucking know, but either way...” A customer had just appeared at the window. Mark nudged his panicked friend aside, going to take care of it. There was a sizzle as Kian dutifully poured crepe batter onto the stove. “Shit. Shit shit shit.”

“Calm down.” Mark snorted. Kian squirmed, scratching his arm. “Banoffee.”

“Yeah, okay.” Kian flipped the crepe and grabbed the container of banana slices. Mark grabbed a bottle of cola from the fridge, handed it out to the customer. He watched Kian drizzle toffee syrup. The customer walked away cheerfully a minute later, crepe in hand.

“Do you love him?”

“I don't know.” Kian admitted. “I adore him and I don't want him to go away. Is that the same?”

“I adore you.”

“I know.” Kian chewed his lip. “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Mark kissed his forehead. “It'll be fine.”

 

*

 

It wasn't fine.

“I'm so sorry.” He pulled Kian in closer. They were slumped on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, Kian's knees up to his chest. Had been like that for almost ten minutes, since Kian had stormed in, tears in his eyes. Mark had been on his feet in a second, gathering him up before Kian could cross the room.

“He... I... I didn't...” Kian sobbed. “I can't... but...”

“I know...” Mark murmured. He'd managed to get most of the story out of Kian. A wife and kids back in London. He'd kept the two lives separate, had married so his family wouldn't know he was gay, had been over here for work for a few months and was going back soon, so...

“It... he...”

“Yeah.” He ran his hands down a heaving back, feeling oddly like they were back where they'd started, one comforting the other. Kian crawled into his lap, arms looping around Mark's neck, and Mark just held him, cradled him in and kissed his hair, feeling his heart ache for the angry, heartbroken boy in his arms. “It's not fair.” Kian shook his head.

“Bastard.”

“I know.” Mark soothed. Kian was shaking. It wasn't the guy, so much, Mark suspected. But it was another one. Another fucking exploding boobytrap the moment Kian thought things were going well again. Maybe Brian wasn't going to be the one, but...

“S'not _fair_. Why...”

“You're too good for him.” It wasn't much consolation, he knew.

“ _Arsehole_.”

“Massive arsehole.” Mark agreed. And eventually Kian started to still, the sobbing becoming hysterical little hiccups, his body tense against Mark's, head buried in his chest and Mark's fingers drifting carefully through his hair. When Mark looked down his eyes were closed, though his hands were balled into fists between them, feet curled up against Mark's thigh.

“So tired.” Kian whispered.

“You want to go to bed?”

That wasn't what Kian meant. They both knew it. Blue eyes stayed shut, leaking tears.

Mark kissed his forehead.

“Come on.” He wrapped his arms around the trembling shape in his arms. “Sleep in with me.”

 

*

 

Sleep didn't come easily. Kian looked exhausted, eyes red and awake, staring blankly at a point somewhere around Mark's chin. They were only a few inches apart, Mark's hand making slow strokes up and down his side, soothing little circles into his hip and shoulder, taking his hand occasionally on the way past. Kian hadn't spoken in a while. He was still, though occasionally his face would screw up, lip sucked under his teeth, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Shh.” Mark murmured. Kian shivered under his hand.

“You said you'd tell me if he was an arsehole.”

“If I'd known, I would've.” Mark sighed. “I'm so sorry, Ki.”

“S'fine. Should be used to it by now.” Kian gulped. “Fuck.” He leaned his forehead against Mark's. “Fuck.” He whispered. “Oh well. Pick up, move on. Plenty more lying, cheating fish in the sea.” A broken laugh burst over his lips. “And here I was feeling so fucking guilty about kissing you.” Mark smirked, letting his thumb stroke up Kian's waist, making circles. He felt Kian relax slightly, eyes falling closed.

“It was quite a good kiss.”

“Talking yourself up?” Kian sniggered. Mark did too. “Yeah. It was.” He moved in closer again. “Love you, Marky.”

“Love you too.” He kissed Kian's cheek. “It's been a really fucked up year.”

“God, tell me about it.” Kian laughed. “Need a time machine. Go back and start again.”

“Go back to the first time Kevin cheated and kick his arse out.”

“Go back to highschool and tell Shane I fancy him.” They both giggled. “It's been a fucking disaster of missed opportunities. Maybe I should have stuck with the lad at the video store. Yeah, he borrowed his mam's car, but at least he was honest about it.”

“He'd probably turn out to be three kids in a trenchcoat.”

“Knowing my luck, yeah.” Kian snorted. “I just want someone...” He sighed. “I don't know. Who loves me. Who gets me. Who doesn't fucking lie to me or use me. Who treats me like a person. Who's a great fucking shag and who's ridiculously good looking and smells nice and makes me laugh.”

“Pretty tall order.” Mark agreed. “Looking for a ten?”

“I'm looking for _my_ ten. Someone who'll make all this shit worth it, it the end.”

“I'd settle for an eight.”

“You shouldn't have to.” Kian kissed his nose. “You're a nine and half, easy.”

“Liar.”

“Nope. You've always been brilliant.” Arms wrapped around his waist, Kian's head slotting in under his chin. He felt a heart beat against his chest. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just... being my best friend.” He squeezed Mark's waist. Mark squeezed back. “I'm going to try and get some rest. Hang on to me until I fall asleep?”

“Course.” His fingers found the small of Kian's back, started to make slow circles. An appreciative hum vibrated into his neck. “Night, Ki.”

“Night.” Kian mumbled. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

*

 

When he woke it was early, barely even three thirty, still dark outside.

Kian was gone.

“Ki?” He sat up in bed. No light coming in from the hall. He slid out, padding down the hallway. Not in his own room, not in the bathroom. The whole house was dark. He went downstairs, but Kian wasn't in the living room or the kitchen.

There was a dark figure sitting on the garden wall. Mark sighed, relaxing slightly when he made out the shape of Kian, knees drawn to his chest, face turned out to look over the beach. He pushed the sliding door open. Kian looked over.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He sidled over, leaned on the wall. A foot gently touched his hand. “What are you doing? It's late.”

“Couldn't sleep. Thinking.”

“Yeah.” That was fair enough. He clambered awkwardly up onto the wall himself, swinging his legs over onto the other side. “You want to go down to the beach or something?”

“Just want to sit here.” He lay back, closing his eyes. Mark let a hand settle on his knee. A hand slid into it. “You can go back inside if you want. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Do you want to be left alone?”

“Not really.” Kian's eyes opened. “Stars are pretty tonight.”

“They are.” He looked up. There was less light pollution here than there had been at their old place. On a clearer night, like tonight, you could see stars for miles. The moon was almost disappeared, a trembling silver crescent. “I'm glad we live together again.”

“Me too.” An arm folded behind Kian's head. The other held onto Mark's. “Do you know any constellations?”

“Not really. I know that's the Plough.” He pointed. “Isn't it supposed to be part of a bear or something?”

“Wouldn't have a clue.” Kian laughed. “I've never been able to figure out how they see like... goats and stuff up there.”

“I know. Like, I'm Gemini and I'd have no idea where that actually is.” Mark squeezed his hand. “Looks like a mess to me.”

“Just like down here, then.” Kian smirked. “Let's make up our own.” He pursed his lips. “I can see a cock.”

“Me too.” Mark joked, got a kick. “Where?”

“There.” Kian pointed. “Just next to that big shiny one.”

“That's a satellite.”

“Okay.” Kian scowled. “You're ruining this.”

“Sorry.” Mark looked up. “I can see... a saucepan.”

“Where?”

“There.” He pointed to five stars that sort of formed a square, and another one off the side. “That's the handle, and...”

“Oh, yeah. Nice one.” Kian sat up, hopped down off the wall.

“Where you going?”

“Stay there.”

He came back with a blanket, spread it out on the grass. They lay down on top, Kian snuggled up to his chest, both of them looking up at the sky. It was a bit humbling. Once he got settled it was all he could see, nothing sliding in on his periphery, just a massive bowl of black and blue and starlight, Kian soft and warm next to him, breathing in rhythm.

“That's a unicorn.” Kian announced. “And that's a rocking chair.”

“That's a TV.” Mark pointed.

“Anything good on?”

“Just adverts.” Mark snorted. “This is nice.”

“It is.” A hand palmed over his chest. He looked down. Kian shuffled up, head making it's home on his shoulder, face tilted into his neck and eyes closed.

“Going to sleep?”

“No.” Kian yawned. Snuffled into his neck. Mark felt a fond glow settle in his belly. “It's been a long day.”

“I know.” He turned to kiss Kian's cheek, saw blue eyes open, starlight reflected in them.

Lips touched his.

They both froze. Absurd, really. Eyes locked, lips pressed together, both of them staring at each other like this should not, could not, wouldn't possibly be happening. He had the sudden desperate urge to laugh. Couldn't get it out past the panic swelling in his throat.

Kian's lips moved.

They were soft.

It...

“Ehm.” He muttered, parting his own lips, felt a hot rush of breath on his mouth. Kian tasted...

Soft. Warm. Lips sucking gently at his own, tender wetness when he tilted to allow it, a clenching throb of heat settling in his belly. Fingers curled in his hair, palming down the side of his face as a tongue slid slowly, hesitatingly along his bottom lip. He met it with his own, felt Kian moan, felt them press together, turning on their sides and arms winding slowly around each other. Felt a shuddering gasp when he slid in to explore Kian, tasking sweetness and hunger. Want. Tears and loneliness and safety and...

He ended up rolled on top. Kian tugged him, both of them letting out embarrassed groans when they realised how hard the other was. Hadn't meant to be. But soft, so soft, fingers in his hair, his own hand on a firm chest, Kian's tongue in his mouth, breath on his lips.

“Fuck.” Kian arched, gasped when they rubbed together. Groaned. “Yes.” Mark adjusted, found that alignment, the place where they pushed together. Perfect. Slotting in, eyes fluttering closed when Kian arched again. “Bad idea.”

“Bad idea.” Mark echoed, though he could barely get the words out. “Really bad idea.”

“Please.” Hips rolled. Fuck. “Please... I...”

“Yes.” Mark breathed. “Inside.”

“No. Stay here. Stay...” Fingers tugged at his shirt. Pulled it over his head. Mark shivered in the early morning breeze, felt his nipples harden when warm hands dragged over them. “Fuck. Beautiful.” Kian yanked off his own shirt. Pressed together, hot skin all over him, sliding and warm and soft and fingers tugging at the drawstring on his pyjama bottoms and Kian's boxers were tented and there was a mouth sucking him in and

The bottoms came off, clumsily kicked away. And there. Oh fuck. There. Kian looking down, hissing his approval. A knee hitching to hold his hip still while Kian's hips moved, rubbing them together.

“Fuck me.” Kian gasped. Mark groaned, closing his eyes against _that_ image. “Need you to.”

“Bad idea.” Mark muttered. There was a giggle.

“Don't care.” They rolled over, picking up the rhythm again. His hand found Kian's arse, palmed over it. And fuck, firm and round and perfect, filling his grip when he yanked them together again. He'd always noticed that Kian was fit, that he was cute and had a good body and all of that stuff you just noticed about your friends, but...

His finger brushed over a hole that twitched under his touch.

“Yes.” Kian gasped. “Mark.”

Fuck.

Yes.

Okay. Yes.

“Please tell me you have condoms.”

“Just a minute.” Kian climbed off, dashed for the house. It was gorgeous, cock bobbing in front of him, one hand on it to hold it still. Mark laughed, grabbing the blanket and chasing after him. He found him in the living room, rummaging in his wallet. “I know I had one.”

“Wait...” Mark ran into the upstairs bathroom. Come on, come on, come on... “Found them!” He yanked them out of the bottom drawer, heard a whoop from downstairs that was so adorable he wanted to hug it. This was mad. This was stupid and mad and.

He heard feet thumping on the stairs.

Looked at the condoms.

Fuck.

 

*

 

“Fuck.” Kian's eyes squeezed shut. Mark couldn't stop staring. It was beautiful. Bloody beautiful as he watched Kian shift, bow forward a little while he sank down. Tight and squeezing and slippery, but oh god, the flush on his skin, the way he was biting his lip, it was all just madness.

A hand slid into his, gripping tight.

“Yes...” Kian gasped. All the way down. Mark's hips lifted, rolling as his head tipped back. He'd never expected how good this would feel, not even when they'd been making out on the bed, his fingers slowly stretching Kian open. He'd been tight, felt wonderful, but this.

This.

“Ah...” He arched again, tried to focus past it.

“You... so good...” Kian twisted, gasped out loud. “Yes.”

Mark sat up, tugged him into a kiss. A stumbling moan hummed on his mouth, arms pulling him into their embrace. He gulped back his arousal, resting his head into a strong chest while he tried to get himself under control.

“Stay there.” Kian shifted. He flinched, fingernails digging into Kian's hips. “Stay... oh. Oh, Mark.” He hissed under his breath. “Ah...” Kian's chest was warm, slippery with sweat. A heart thudded against his cheek. Neither moved, and Mark felt himself relax a little, snuggled up in Kian, feeling hands slowly stroke his back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian tugged him in tighter. “Just... trying not to come.” He laughed. Mark did too. Because shit, if something was going to be funny it had to be this. A wave of giggles swept over them, Kian's chest shaking against his ear. By the time they were done, Mark leaning back on his hands a little to get himself under control, Mark was wiping his eyes and Kian was grinning stupidly, both of them looking at each other like one of them had the answers.

“This is a mess.” Mark commented.

“Disaster.” Kian sighed. A hand came up to touch Mark's cheek, both of them smirking. “Well, too late now. It's not like you can unfuck me.”

“True.” Mark chuckled. “You feel amazing.”

“God, you too. Like...” Kian glanced down. “Didn't know you were packing this, did I?”

“Likewise.” He squeezed Kian's cock gently. It was a nice cock. He'd never seen it up before, not properly. Mark ran his thumb over the tip, watching fluid pearl on the head.

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you feel really good.” He shifted. Mark groaned. “We should really talk about this in the morning.”

“Probably.” He let go of Kian's cock, traced fingers gently up a smooth stomach, strong chest. Kian kissed them when they reached his mouth. Mark smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Kian had to lean forward to kiss him, both of them groaning at the shift. “Oh shit.” Kian gasped. “There.”

“There?” Mark edged up, heard a soft cry. So hot, Kian whimpering as he set a rhythm, nudging back onto the slow, careful thrusts. Tight and rippling. Mark held him, his best friend rocking slowly in his lap, gasps in his ear to the beat of every rolling thrust.

“Mark.” Kian gasped. It had felt like years since they'd started moving. Mark never wanted it to stop. “Marky.”

“I've got you.” Mark whispered. Kian shuddered. “I've got you.” He didn't have himself. Squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the inevitable, pulsing throb. Kian twitched in his arms, twisted, cried out. Mark held him. Was yanked into a kiss. Pushed a hand between them to feel it, feel Kian hot and hard and slick through his grip. Kian held him tight, clinging to him.

Held him while Mark clung back and filled the condom, mouth open and nothing coming out, his own voice drowned in the flood.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“So.”

“So.” Mark poked gently at his cereal with his spoon. “So... yeah.”

“Yeah.” Kian peeked up at him from under lowered lashes, cheeks going pink. “Coffee?”

“Yeah.” His friend got up to get the kettle on. Mark stared at the cereal, then pushed it away, leaning his face in his hands, elbows braced on the kitchen table. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Kian sighed. A kiss touched the back of his head. “That was um. Interesting. So.”

“It was... yeah.” He groaned. “What did we do?”

“So... you think it was it a mistake, then?”

“Massive mistake.” The spoon rattled in the cup behind him. “I'm so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For... all that. It just...” He bunched his hands into a single fist, rested his chin on top. A mug slid in front of him while he was staring at the fridge, eyes absently fixed on a turtle shaped magnet Kian had bought at the beach one day.

“It was good.”

“It was _really_ good.” Mark sighed. Kian smirked. “Shit, Kian.”  
  
“Shit.” Kian sank down across from him, coffee nestled in both hands. “You regret it?”

“Of course I do!” Mark exclaimed, saw Kian flinch, then look down into his coffee. “You don't?”

“I don't know.” Kian murmured. “It was okay.”

“We're friends.”

“Yeah.” Kian was still staring into his mug, hands rocking it slightly so the coffee swirled on top. “I know. But... I don't know. Is it going to change anything? Like... yeah, we fucked, but...” He glanced up at Mark. “Let's just forget about it, okay? It was a weird thing that happened, it's not going to happen again. It doesn't have to change anything.”

“No, I guess not.” Kian was still swirling his coffee. Mark watched him put the mug down on the table. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Kian stood up. “I'm gonna go surf for a bit, okay? I just want to clear my head. Brian, and...” He trailed off. “I'll be back for lunch. We're not working today, are we?” Mark shook his head. “Okay, cool, so...”

He didn't finish the sentence, just wandered out the back door. It clicked shut behind him. His coffee was still on the table.

Mark tipped it out and went to sit in front of the TV, feeling a confused knot settle into his stomach.

 

*

 

It doesn't have to change things.

Ha.

It had never been like this. Not in the over ten years they'd known each other, but suddenly Mark didn't know what to say. Kian was silent, was moving slowly around the van, setting things up, and where usually they'd be mucking about, bumping into each other and shoving playfully, it was like Mark's touch was poison. Kian skating and ducking around him. He touched Kian's shoulder once, felt his friend flinch away.

He didn't know what to fucking _do._

“Whipped cream?”

“Here.” Mark tossed the can in Kian's direction. Kian caught it, starting to spread it on top of a hot chocolate, the aerosol hiss the only sound in the cramped little space. The can was tossed back. He caught it, put it back on the shelf. When he looked back Kian was staring out the window.

The next day was just as bad. The day after that. And in between it all, the memory. Of firm cheeks in his hands. Of grinding into hard arousal and snogging under the stars. Kian tight and squeezing around him and shit, he was _not_ going to jerk off to that one even though honestly it was about the best thing that had happened to him since he and Nicky had...

He caught himself glancing at Kian's arse, which was very definitely a bad thing.

At blonde hair flopping over serious sky-blue eyes.

At...

“Hey. Space cadet.” Fingers clicked in front of his eyes and he looked up. Got a smirk. “You with us?”

“I'm... yeah. Here. What?”

“You'll be as bad as Shane soon.” Nicky teased. “What are you doing?”

“Just... sorry. Thinking.” He forced a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Nicky slouched down into the seat across from him. Lunch. Eating lunch. The others were...

“Where'd the others go?”

“To order food, like five minutes ago.” Nicky gestured over his shoulder. Kian and Shane were still third in line. It was packed today. “What's with you today? You've hardly said two words.”

“I'm okay. I'm just...” He looked down at the menu. Couldn't remember what he'd bloody ordered. “I'm okay.”

“Right. Well, Kian looks like he's pissed off about something. Did you two have a falling out?”

“No. I mean... I don't think so.” He glanced over. Shane and Kian were chatting away, but Mark could see it. The stiffness in his stance, the way he wasn't gesturing like he usually did when he spoke. “You know he and Brian broke up?”

“Oh... ouch.” Nicky winced. “He liked that one.”

“He did. Yeah. Don't... mention that you know. He's really...” Mark sighed. “He found out some stuff that Brian decided not to tell him.”

“Big stuff?”

“Pretty big.” Mark wished he had a drink or something. He felt like there was a lump in his throat. “Just... flat out lying to him for three months.” Nicky went a little pink at that. “And now everything's fucked up and I don't...” He bit his lip.

“What happened?”

“Just... nothing.” Mark buried his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“It was his boyfriend, not yours.”

“Yeah. I guess.” He looked up. “Nicky...”

“Yeah?”

“Just...” He glanced over at Shane. “You're never going to tell him? Not ever?” Slender fingers tensed on the table. “Like, just... your whole lives and you...”

“Tell him what?” Nicky said slowly. “What is there to tell?”

“You know.”

“No.” Nicky crossed his arms over his chest. “What I know is that I did a stupid thing, and that it would break his heart if he found out. That's my problem. Not his.” He looked over at Shane. “I love him, and I got scared, and I acted like a twat. I'm not keeping it to myself because I'm a slut. I'm doing it because the thought of losing him...” He bit his lip.

“What would he want, though?”

“He'd want me never to cheat on him. And in his world, I haven't.” Nicky looked back at Mark. “What are you going to do? Completely destroy him? Why? Would it make you feel better?” Mark shrugged. “No.”

“It's not right...”

“Isn't it?” Shane was picking up the order number, the two of them starting to walk over. “It's also none of your business, Mark.”

“But I...”

“You fucked a stranger. So did I. It was mistake. I like you, you know? You're a good friend and yeah, maybe if I had been single we might have made a go of it. But so help me, if you break his heart I'll break your fucking legs. He's perfect, and he's mine.”

Mark didn't know what to say. Sat dumbfounded as Nicky leaned up and accepted a kiss on the cheek, his hand curving to Shane's chin.

“Love you.” Shane murmured.

“Love you.” Nicky smiled.

Mark looked at Kian. Kian didn't look back.

Fuck.

 

*

 

It was a shitty, cloudy sort of morning to be at the beach. Not that that had stopped Kian. Mark had woken to find him already gone, a board missing from the rack in the garage. It wasn't uncommon – Kian was usually out before Mark got up – but this morning it felt almost personal, just like it had the last week of mornings. Like Kian was avoiding him, like that thin smile Mark got when Kian came in was the best he could do at pretending everything was fine.

As he watched Kian paddled out again. He'd just come off his board, seemed almost to be fighting the waves, swerving into them with a savagery that couldn't be safe. Then he was back up, bending low against a huge roll of water. He came out the other side on this one, dropped back down, and paddled out again. And again.

It was half an hour later that he emerged, dripping wet and panting, face red, glaring at the sand as he stalked back up the beach.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Kian grunted, kept walking. “Dying for breakfast.”

“I can do eggs?” Mark scrambled up as he was passed, jogged to pull level with his friend. “Poached okay?”

“I'll just have toast.” Kian hefted his board. His hair was plastered to his cheeks. “Might have a nap before we get on the road.”

“Kian...” Mark dashed in front of him, trying to walk backwards. A bit difficult walking up the sandy slope, but he managed it. Kian glanced up.

“What?”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you pissed off at me?”

“I'm not.” Mark felt his feet hit the grass. “I'm having a shitty fucking couple of weeks. Just like you acted like a whiny bitch for the last six months, remember? Sorry if this is inconvenient.”

“Ki...” He stopped, stunned. Kian stormed past him. Mark caught up a again, feet like lead. “Hey.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Good. Fine.” Kian shoved open their backyard gate. Mark pushed it shut again once he'd gone through as well. Kian was already pulling at the back door. Mark had locked it before he'd headed down to the water. “Keys?”

“Not until you talk to me.”

Kian yanked on the handle again. It rattled. Mark bit his lip.

“Open the door, Mark.”

“No. I...” He backed away. “Just... tell me what's wrong?”

“You know what's wrong.”

“But...”

“Mark.” Kian's voice was flat. Quiet. Mark hated it when it got like that. Usually Kian was loud when he was a bit ticked off, complaining loudly and stewing for a fight. When he got quiet it was really serious, a calm before an inevitable storm. A teacher hadn't realised that once, when Kian had had a long day of being picked on and bullied. Had been ragging on him for not doing his art homework and been extremely surprised when Kian had thrown a pot of paint at the wall, kicked the desk over, and stormed out.

“Ki...”

“Unlock the fucking door.” It was almost a whisper. “I swear to god.”

“No.”

“Mark.” Kian wasn't looking at him. Was staring at the ground, fingers clenching on the board. “Unlock the door.”

“What are you going to do?” Mark shot back. “You going to hit me? Huh?” He laughed, feeling almost hysterical. Kian's mouth twisted into a silent growl. “What are you going to do?” Kian turned away, and for the smallest moment Mark thought he'd won.

Then he watched open-mouthed as Kian put his fist through the window.

“Fuck.” His hand flew to his mouth. Broken glass was tinkling from the frame. Not a big window, just one of the small mosaic ones ringing the door. Kian reached inside, unlocked the door, then pulled his fist out. It was bleeding.

He went inside.

Mark stood in shock on the lawn for a long minute.

Then he followed.

 

*

 

He found Kian on his bed, curled into a ball and sobbing. Mark hesitated in the doorway, first aid kit in his hand. There was blood on the duvet. Kian was still wearing his wetsuit, dripping all over the bed.

“Ki...”

“Leave me alone.” Kian whispered.

“You're hurt. I'm just gonna...” He sat down gingerly on the edge of the damp bed, worked his hand in to grab Kian's wrist. It was pretty cut up, scratched right down his arm where he'd reached through to open the door. “Kian...” He breathed. “Shit.”

“Leave it.”

“No.” He grabbed an antiseptic wipe, started to clean up so he could see if there was any glass in it. Kian hissed softly under his breath but allowed it. Knees drawing tighter to his chest as he closed his eyes. “Come here.” Mark murmured, shifting over a little and tugging until Kian's head was in his lap, shoulders rested between his crossed legs. “That's a mess.”

“Yeah.” Kian breathed, then winced. Mark had just eased out a piece of glass. “Ouch.”

“I know.” Mark bit his lip, trying to see better. He reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. The light caught another fragment, just behind his knuckle. He tugged that one out too. Kian started to cry again.

“I'm not crying because it hurts.” He croaked. Mark rolled his eyes.

“Okay. Why are you crying, then?”

“Because.” Kian's eyes closed. “Ow.”

“One more bit.” Mark tugged out the last of what he could see. There was less than he'd expected. Kian probably should go to a doctor, but there was no use telling him that. He grabbed some more antiseptic and started to swab it over the cuts.

Once he was done he wrapped a bandage around it, kissed it gently, and let go. Kian flinched in pain as he tucked it back into his chest but didn't comment. Mark stroked his hair.

“Come on.” He urged gently. “Sleep on my bed. This one's all wet.”

“I'm fine here.” Kian looked up. Blue eyes red from tears. “Thanks.”  
  
“It's okay.” He smiled. “Hey, you were catching some good waves today.”

“It was a bit of a close out. Kept pearling.”

“I don't know what that means.”

“Shit breaks. Board kept nosediving. Fell off a lot.”

“Looked good to me.” Mark chuckled. Kian shrugged. “You still want toast?”

“No thanks.” Kian settled, head on Mark's thigh. Mark closed his eyes. Where this once would have been a perfectly comfortable position, now all he could think about was how close Kian was to... certain bits. Bits that were not going to show any interest while he was trying to comfort his friend. “Mark?”

“Mm?”

“Changed my mind. Might have a shower, go sleep in your room if that's okay?”

“Course it is. I'll change your sheets while you sleep, then I'll call a man about the window.”

“I'm really sorry.”

“It's okay.” He bent. Pecked Kian's forehead. “Come on you. Let's get you cleaned up.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Things seemed a bit better after that. The man came around for the window the next afternoon. He asked how it had been broken. Kian mumbled something about damn neighbourhood kids, making Mark giggle and get a strange look, but the man hadn't questioned it further. Kian didn't go surfing for a few days, not with his hand all scraped up and bandaged, so he took to laying on the couch staring at the TV. Sometimes Mark joined him, pulling him into a hug and smiling when Kian went to sleep on his chest. It appeared the storm had passed.

“Two more chocolate waffles with everything.” Kian called out. Mark nodded, heading for the iron. Everything was quite a lot. Strawberries, white chocolate buttons, sprinkles, chocolate syrup, and a sprinkling of grated coconut. That was half the trouble of working in a food van, not eating all the merchandise, though at least if he got stuck into the fruit he was being healthy. The chocolate buttons were always a temptation, though.

“Two with everything.” He passed them over. Kian nodded thanks. “How's it looking?”

“Busy.” Kian peered out. They were just doing the morning at the carnival, then it was off to Shane and Nicky's for their anniversary party. Three years. Mark hadn't spoken to either of them since that day a couple of weeks before. He didn't know how to speak to them today. A hand touched his shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Kian smiled. “Alright?”

“Fine.” He nodded. “Just didn't sleep too well last night. I'll catch up tonight.”

“Okay, cool.” Kian wandered back to the window. Within a minute he was calling out an order for a mushroom and chicken crepe.

Mark turned back to the grill, feeling eyes on his back.

 

*

 

“Hey, happy anniversary.” Kian thrust a gift bag at Shane, who had just opened the door. “Have a thing.”

“What kind of thing?” Shane laughed.

“Alcohol thing.” They hugged briefly, the bag dangling from Shane's hand. “Congratulations.” They shoved into the house. They were a bit late, so it was already full of people. They'd had a sudden upturn in business at the carnival and stayed for an extra forty minutes to make the most of it, then gotten stuck in peak hour traffic coming the other way.

“Thanks. Nice ride.” Shane pointed out the door, to where the van was parked in the driveway. “I don't need catering.”

“You're not getting any. We're off the clock.” Mark retorted, giving Shane a quick hug too. “I'll slip ya a chocolate button cos it's your anniversary.”

“Lucky me.” The door closed. “Everyone's in the garden, drinks are in the cooler next to the barbecue.”

“Where's Nicky?” Kian asked.

“Last I saw he was arguing with my uncle about the football.” Shane smirked. The doorbell rang. “Oh, that's me. Make yourselves at home.”

The garden was full with a bunch of people who looked either strikingly like Nicky or an awful lot like Shane. They stood there for a moment, not sure if there was someone their own age. Within an hour though, the music had kicked up a gear and things had evened out a bit. Kian had found another surfer, was babbling on about something to do with breaks and fades and something called a stringer and how to wax it. Mark wandered off to look for snacks, sure there had to be a few native Sligonians he could talk to.

“Sausage?” Nicky was standing near the grill. “I've got some about ready.”

“Thanks.” Mark smiled. “Happy anniversary.”

“Thanks.” Nicky's eyes were hesitant. “Look... sorry. About the other day.” Mark shrugged. He couldn't very well say it was okay, but he supposed they were on even terms. “I take him seriously, and I won't say I didn't mean it, but... I was a bit of a dick to you.”

“Forgotten.” Mark took the sausage. “Sauce?”

“Yeah.” Nicky grabbed a bottle. “Mustard?”

“Bit of salt?” Nicky nodded. “This is quite fun. I'm usually the one grilling for other people.”

“I saw the van.” Nicky chuckled. “Shane said something about chocolate buttons.”

“Don't say it too loud or everyone'll want one.” Mark joked. “Just for you, because it's your day.”

“It is. Yeah.” Nicky blushed a little, turning back to the grill. “I love the absolute hell out of him, you know? He's just...” He glanced over his shoulder. Shane was talking to a man who looked exactly like Nicky, but bald, both of them laughing. “He's perfect.”

“I'm glad.” There was no point arguing. This was Nicky's bed to lie in however he chose. Mark had enough bloody going on. Like the fact that Kian looked gorgeous in that jacket.

He wandered away after a few pleasantries, found Kian standing near the fence. He tossed an arm around broad shoulders. Kian pecked his cheek.

“Okay?” Mark murmured.

“Okay.” Kian smiled. “Can I have some of your sausage?”

“Get your own.”

“It's all the way over there.” Kian pouted. Mark sighed and handed the leftover half to him. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He kissed Kian's hair. “Want to get shitfaced?”

“Brilliant plan.” Kian took a huge bite of sausage. “Let's go see if that giftbag's still around.”

 

*

 

It was getting dark. Mark couldn't say he was plastered as such, but the alcohol was definitely settling well. He felt heavy and loose, less like he cared about anything. That was probably the biggest perk. Kian was slumped next to him on a sofa inside, yawning over a bourbon and coke.

“Bit drunk.” Mark commented. Shane had already given them the okay to leave the van in the driveway, so they'd decided to get serious about this drinking thing and call a cab. “Go home?”

“In a bit.” Kian yawned again. “I like this carpet.”

“We're staying for the carpet?”

“No, I'm just making conversation.” A fist punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Snarky shit.”

“Tell me your feelings on the drapes next.”

“Take 'em or leave 'em. This wallpaper's good value, though.” Kian looked around. “Okay, we can go now.”

“Thank god.” Mark laughed. He stood first, tugged Kian to his feet. They grinned at each other. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kian hugged him. Mark was surprised for a moment, then hugged him back. “I love you, okay? Just so you know.”

“I know.” Mark kissed his hair. “This year has been totally shit. Want to pretend none of it happened and start again?”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah.” Mark smiled. “Fresh start, new us.”

“The old us won't know what hit 'em.” Kian chuckled. “We should get a drink to celebrate.”

“New you knows how to have a good time.”

“New me is a fucking party animal and is not getting old and tired at all.” Kian smirked. They wandered through to the kitchen, where Shane was just sorting out a few bottles of champagne. “We're going to head off in a sec.” Kian announced. “Thanks for having us.”

“You're going?”

“Soon.” Kian confirmed. “Mark's drunk.”

“You're drunk.” Mark retorted. “New me doesn't want to be hungover. Can old me stay in play until like midday tomorrow?”

“Oh, just palm everything off on old you...”

“What _are_ you two talking about?” They both shrugged. Shane rolled his eyes. “Right, well, do you think you could stay another fifteen minutes or so? We're doing a toast in a second.” They both nodded. “Thanks.” He picked up two bottles of champagne and started heading for the garden. “Come on.”

They hadn't been back outside since it had gotten dark. It was quite pretty, the last rays of orange sunset peering up over the horizon, little white lanterns dotted along the fence posts. More people had shown up without them noticing, maybe fifty in all. Mark didn't get the fuss. Yeah, it was romantic, but it was only three years. Five, maybe, was worth a party. Or ten. He couldn't even remember what he and Kevin had done for their three years.

They ended up leaned against the fence. Shane was calling Nicky over, getting the music turned off. It went suddenly quiet, the babble of voices dying out as everyone realised Shane was dinging on his glass.

“Hey. Hi.” Shane grinned, waving. There were a couple of drunken replies through the assembled family and friends. Nicky's cousin was barely standing. “Uh... so thanks for coming. Me and Nicky have been together for three years now and I guess...” He glanced at the man next to him, who was looking at him fondly. “I know a lot of you only found out I was seeing him recently, and I wanted to apologise. I spent a long time being frightened to be in love with him, of you knowing I was, but...” He looked at Nicky. “He's stood by me the whole time. Even when I wasn't being as good to him as he deserves.”

“Aww...” Kian whispered. “That's sweet.” Mark saw it, though, the slight fidgeting in Nicky's fingers, the way the corner of his mouth tensed.

“So, I just wanted to say it's been a mad three years and I love you, Nico. More than the world.”

“Shay...” Nicky pulled him into a hug. There were general applause, a few whoops. Kian whistled. They pulled back on a chaste kiss. “Love you.” He mouthed. Shane pecked his lips again. “I don't know what to say.”

Shane closed his eyes. Mark saw it, saw him take a deep breath. Nicky was still smiling. A hand fished in his pocket.

“Say yes.”

Nicky stared at the ring, frozen in a smile. Shane was biting his lip.

“Oh, fuck.” Nicky breathed, going red. “Shay.” His eyes flicked to Mark, who wanted to run suddenly, wanted to be as far away as possible. Kian was tearing up. He did always get soppy when he was drunk.

“Say yes.” He heard Kian whisper beside him “Say yes, say yes, say yes...”

“Yes.” Nicky's grin was blinding, the hug enormous. There were cheers, whistles. Kian had his hands clutched to his chest, looked like he was about to cry.

Mark sagged against the fence, face frozen in the rictus of a delighted smile.

 

*

 

Kian kept asking where Nicky was, wanting to say goodbye before they left. They'd stayed another hour to help congratulate the happy couple, though they weren't first in line. Everyone kept hugging them, slapping them on the back and giving well meant homespun advice about the best way to keep a happy marriage, most of which was a bit crass. Shane wouldn't let go of Nicky's hand.

Up until about five minutes before when he'd disappeared.

“He said he was going to the bathroom.” Shane told Kian, laughing. “He'll be back in a bit. Calm down.”

“Fine...” Kian sighed. They'd had another couple of drinks. Mark had needed them.

“Mind if I use the upstairs one?” The downstairs one was shut, so presumably that was where Nicky was. Shane nodded. All the drinks had finally hit his bladder, which was uncomfortably full as he jogged upstairs, hanging a left and heading for Shane and Nicky's bedroom, intending to use the en suite.

Nicky was sat on the bed. He looked up, startled, then sighed.

“What?”

“Just... wanted to use the bathroom.” Mark winced. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Nicky curled his knees up to his chest. “I'm delighted.”

“I can tell.” Mark hedged. “What's wrong?”

“Just...” The figure on the bed seemed to be shrinking as Mark looked at him. “I have to tell him.”

“Do you?”

“We're getting _married_ , Mark. Maybe not next week, but... eventually. Soon, probably.” He bit his lip. “I can't do it. I can't stand up there and say the vows and know...” A tear rolled down his cheek. “He trusts me.” Mark nodded.

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well... me too.” Nicky uncurled, though he didn't stand, his legs hanging despondently over the edge of the mattress. He was breathing slowly, looked in the midst of a panic attack. Mark put a hand on his shoulder.

“Want me to get you a drink or something?”

“Just... have a piss or whatever.” Nicky shrugged his hand off and gestured at the bathroom. “I'll sort it.” He stood up, shook himself. “Right.”

“You're going to tell him now?”

“In front of his family? Fucking of course not.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “Just gonna put on my smile.” He grinned. It was disturbing, eyes empty and red. “There we go. Now I just have to hold this for about thirty glasses of champagne and hugs from all his aunties. How do you think I'll go?” He didn't look like he wanted an answer. “Thanks for your help.”

“I didn't...”

Nicky left the room before he could figure out how to finish that sentence. When he came down from the bathroom Kian was hugging Nicky, both of them smiling, Nicky laughing as Kian congratulated him.

Mark went to call a cab.

 

*

 

“It was so romantic.” Kian sighed. They were both properly plastered now. Mark had pulled out the vodka from the freezer the moment he'd gotten in, expected Kian to be asleep by now so he could silently drink by himself. His friend was wired, though, bouncing all over the place.

“It was very sweet.” He pulled Kian onto the couch and into a hug, just trying to hold him fucking still. A kiss brushed his cheek. “Hello, new Kian.”

“Hello, new Mark.” Kian giggled. “That's crazy. Getting married, like. They're so cute and...” The winsome sigh didn't help Mark's mood. “What are we going to get them as an engagement present?”

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” Mark felt a bit like he wanted to be sick. Where was that bottle again? “It's only been a couple of hours.”

“Yeah but...” Kian pulled out of his hold and flopped onto his back, head on Mark's lap. “Gah.”

“Gah?”

“So much gah.” Kian confirmed “They're so gah.”

“You can put that in their card.”

“What card?”

“The one with the engagem...” He trailed off, realising Kian was in no fit state for a reasonable dialogue. His eyes were closed, mouth still curved into a stupid grin. “I might head to bed.”

“I'm not tired.” Kian pouted. “Can I tuck you in?”

“If you like.” Mark snorted, climbing to his feet. And yeah, he was too drunk for standing. Walking was going to be a challenge. Kian staggered up next to him. The stairs were a mountain. It took three tries to make it to the top.

He fell into bed. Kian landed next to him, yanking the blankets in the general direction of up.

“Night.” A kiss touched his cheek. “Sleep well.”

“Night, Ki.” He closed his eyes, felt Kian settle in. “Thought you weren't tired.”

“Not. Gonna wait til you fall asleep.”

“Weirdo.” Mark closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around his friend.

Ten minutes later Kian was snoring, mouth open and reeking of alcohol, hair all over Mark's shoulder and tickling his chin.

Mark lay staring at the ceiling for a long time.

 


	12. Chapter 12

It was almost noon by the time they made it back for the van. Mark had woken up at seven, thrown up for a good hour before Kian had emerged, blinked at him, and taken his place in front of the toilet, arms crossed on the seat and head almost disappeared.

It was a warm day. Sun shining down, not a cloud in the sky, cars roaring past like a fucking hammer in his head...

“I want to die.” Kian whispered once they'd climbed out of the cab. “Can I die?”

“I'm sure you can.” Mark mumbled. “Do it quietly.” He peered up at the house. He wondered if Nicky had told Shane yet. Kian was already heading for the front door. “Leave them to it, maybe. They're probably still passed out.”

“I left the keys inside.” Kian explained. Mark sighed. “I'll just grab them and we'll go.”

“Fine...” He tensed as Kian knocked on the door. Stood there for what felt like a long time. Kian knocked again. Pressed his ear to the door. “What's up?”

“Sounds like they're having a domestic.” Kian whispered. Mark felt his stomach knot. Exactly what he needed. “Shit. Engaged ten minutes and they're off already.” He pursed his lips, lifting his hand to the doorbell. It rang through the house, sounding way too loud.

“Maybe we should come ba...” The door opened. Shane was stood there, tears in his eyes and a face like thunder. Mark swallowed.

“Hey.” He managed. “Van keys?”

Shane disappeared back inside. He could see Nicky on the couch once the other man moved, head buried in his hands and back shaking with sobs. He didn't look up. Shane came back with the keys.

“Is everything alright?” Kian asked. “Nico? Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, Kian.” Nicky croaked. “Just go, okay? Mark...” He looked up, finally, eyes red with tears. “Um.”

“I'm really sorry.” Mark breathed, never meant to say it out loud, but... Nicky shrugged. Shane stared between the two of them.

“Mark _knew?!”_ His face went red. It was awful. “Mark...” He looked back at Nicky. “Oh, Jesus.” His whole face sagged in sudden understanding. Mark bit his lip. He couldn't deny it. Not now. “It was _Mark?!"_

“It wasn't...” Mark started. Shane's eyes were daggers. “I didn't know.”

“You've been fucking Mark behind my back?!”

He heard Kian gasp. Somehow that was the worst bit.

“It was just the one time. I didn't know you were together. It...” He looked at Shane, saw the betrayal there, the total, unfaceable anger. “It was an accident. Shane...”

“You lied to me. Both of you. And...” Brown eyes started to leak tears. “Just... get out. Get the fuck out.” He threw the keys at Mark. He was too startled to catch them, so they bounced off his chest, jangled to the stone step. He bent to pick them up.

“I'm really sorry.” Mark mumbled. The door slammed in his face.

It opened again a second later. Nicky shut it behind him, sinking down on the step.

Kian stared at both of them for a long minute.

Then he went inside.

 

*

 

The van wasn't the best place to console someone, but it was the best he could do at short notice. He unlocked the back and they both climbed in, Nicky slumping down on a crate in the corner, squashed next to the closed service window and the drinks fridge. Mark pulled a warm can of coke out and handed it to Nicky, who just held it in a vacant grip, staring at the wall.

“You okay?”

“What kind of question is that?” Nicky laughed, high pitched and broken. “No I'm not fucking okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. Well.” Nicky put the coke down on the floor. “Yeah.”

“Maybe he'll calm down.”

“Right.” Nicky snorted. “Right...” His voice trailed off. He stared at his hands. At the ring. “One fucking shag, huh? Who would have thought it'd all come to this.” He pulled off the ring, held it up to look at it. “This is fucked.” His face crumpled, tears starting to roll from his eyes, and when he grabbed the napkin Mark held out he slid the ring back onto his finger. “I'm the worst person in the world. I can't...”

“You're not.”

“Shut up.” Nicky breathed. “Just... shut up.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Nicky picked up the coke again. Click. Fizz. He took a long swallow. “Fuck.” He looked at Mark. “What the fuck do I do now?”

“I don't know.” Mark admitted. Nicky nodded. “Tell him you're sorry?”

“Thanks. Helpful.” Nicky stood, pacing slightly on the spot. “You didn't see him. Not when I told him. I could see his heart breaking, you know? You know how awful it is to actually see someone's heart breaking?” He gulped back tears, hand coming over his mouth. “Oh my god, what did I do?”

“You did the right thing.” Mark offered uselessly. He wasn't so sure now. Not really. Would it have been so bad, Shane never finding out? It wasn't like it was going to happen again.

They sat out there almost an hour. Mark turned on the ignition, got the air conditioner running inside so at least they wouldn't cook. His phone rang just as he was about to ask if he could take Nicky somewhere. If he had a family member or someone he could stay with.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking caller ID.

Kian.

“Mark?”

“Hey.” He said quietly. “Shane okay?”

“No, he's not fucking okay.” Kian's voice sounded brittle. “Shit, Mark.”

“I know.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to push his thoughts into some sort of order. Nicky was looking at him, small confused sobs still shaking his chest. “...I know. I'm sorry.”

“Did you really...?”

“Yeah.” He admitted. Kian's silence was answer enough. “Not... on purpose but... yeah. Remember that guy? The rebound fuck?” Kian was still silent. “Excellent blowjobs?”

“Fuck.” Kian's voice was heavy with understanding. “Okay. Shit. Fuck.”

“I'm really sorry.”

“It's not me you should be apologising to.” It didn't sound like it, though. Kian sounded just as angry as anyone else in this situation. “I'm going to take Shane back to ours. He's in bits. What you need to do is get Nicky inside once we're gone, help him pack a bag, and have him out before Shane gets back tomorrow. He's going to sleep at ours. And don't...” Kian hesitated. “Don't come back to the house tonight, okay? Find a hotel or something if you have to, but Shane...” His voice lowered. “It's not a good idea for Shane to see you right now.”

“Of course. Yeah. Anything.”

“Okay.” Kian hung up without another word.

Mark looked at Nicky, feeling about two inches tall.

“Nicky...”

*

 

It was slow going. They waited ten minutes, heard Shane's car pull out of the driveway and trundle off down the street. Then he got Nicky inside. Helped him find a suitcase. Nicky didn't help pack it, just sat on the bed staring at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe door, hands clenched and face horribly still. Mark just threw in some clothes and things, enough to at least get Nicky through a couple of days.

He put the suitcase in the back of Nicky's car, guided him into the passenger seat. The motel a few blocks over was a complete misery at best, but there wasn't much else he could do. Nicky didn't even seem to notice. He just locked himself in the bathroom. Mark heard the bath run. Nicky didn't come out for a really long time.

“Nicky.” He knocked on the door gently. “You okay in there?”

“Fine.” It sounded empty, bouncing off the tiles. He didn't hear anything else so sat back down on the bed, chin buried in his knees and his heart sitting on the floor.

Nicky came out over an hour later, curled up on the bed facing the wall, and closed his eyes.

Mark let him be. He'd already done enough.

 

*

 

“Mark?”

It was late. He'd been dozing a bit, not able to fall properly asleep, the whole thing just running over and over through his head. Every stupid, idiotic fuckup. Kevin, Nicky, Kian... Nicky again. Maybe this was how Kian felt all the time, when everything was falling apart and he was trying to smile through it.

Which was a fucking selfish thing to think. Kian hadn't brought all this on himself.

And neither of them were smiling.

“What's up?” He looked over. The lights were off. He'd thought Nicky asleep. Despite his own particular input in this madness he felt entirely the wrong person to be doing this. He and Nicky in a hotel room together when Shane already thought there was something going on. They weren't even close, not really. Decent friends, he supposed, but Nicky was falling apart. He needed family or someone close to him; a reasonable confidant. Not some fuckwit he'd shagged and tried to be civil with for the last six months.

“Where's Shane right now?”

“At ours.” Mark had mentioned it before, but Nicky hadn't been particularly in a listening mood. “He's going to crash there and head back in the morning.”

“Oh.” Nicky went silent. Mark closed his eyes again.

“Why?”

“Just... wanted to know. Erm...” A heavy, damp breath rattled in Nicky's lungs. “He always sings me a song before bed. Even when we're not...” His voice cracked. “Even when we're not together he calls and...”

“I'm sorry.”

“The only time he didn't was when...” Nicky hesitated. “When we...” He gulped. “We had a fight. A big one. He didn't want to meet my family and I was upset because I tried to hold his hand at the supermarket and he wouldn't... wouldn't um...” He exhaled slowly. “And then I told him if he couldn't be bothered to be with me, he shouldn't bother being with me at all. And he went back to Sligo, and three weeks later after no phone calls I figured... I figured that was it. I was so angry. I thought it was over and...”

“And then you picked me up.”

“Yeah.” Nicky murmured. “Yeah, I did. I was pissed off and drunk and I picked you up.”

“I was pissed off and drunk as well.”

“I know.” Nicky snorted. “Except you were with the wrong one. I wasn't. I had the right one all along and I couldn't appreciate it.”

“I'm starting to think there is no right one.” Mark commented. “Like, I thought I'd found it. I really thought...” He shook his head. “I've been miserable for so long and I can't figure out why any more. What did I lose? Really? Someone who treated me like crap? Maybe that's the part that hurt the most. Realising that no matter what I do it's never going to be the right thing. That there is no right guy and that maybe... maybe I'm just supposed to be on my own.”

“That's a fucking stupid thing to say.”

“Why?”

“Because you're not on your own, you idiot. You have Kian. I'm the one who's on my own.”

“Friends don't count.”

“Oh, come on.” Nicky sat up, and when Mark looked over he was being glared at. “If you can't see how fucking in love with you Kian is, you're either an idiot or you're in denial. Either way, stop complaining that nobody loves you. Seriously. Some of us have real problems.”

“Kian doesn't love me.” Mark laughed, reeling in surprise. “He's my best friend.”

“No, you've just got your head so far up your own arse you can't see the way he looks at you.” Nicky shot back. Mark blinked in surprise. “That boy worships you. He follows you around like a damn puppy. You two spend more time together than Shane and I do.” He paused, looking away as his lip trembled. “Did.” He whispered. Mark felt his heart lurch. “When Shane was pretending to be your boyfriend at that club Kian spent the whole time looking like he wanted to go over there and drag him off. It was pathetic. Just shag him already.”

“We already did.” Mark retorted. That shut Nicky up. Then he realised what he'd said out loud and felt his face go hot. “We... already did.” He managed. “Couple weeks ago. It was a mistake. We moved on.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah.” Mark scratched his arm. “We were having a shit night and he was upset about Brian so we... just kind of ended up doing it. And then the next morning we talked about it and decided it was a mistake.”

“You both decided?”

“Yeah.” Or no. He'd said it was, that he regretted it of course, and Kian had...

Kian had gone surfing for a bit.

Then a few days later he'd put a fist through the window.

Oh fuck.

Snuggling on the couch, moving in together when he'd been at his lowest point, Kian blowing off dates to come take care of him. The total discomfort after that one stupid kiss. Telling him everything was okay, that Kevin hadn't been the right one for him, that he hadn't been good enough. Driving to _Sligo_ of all places when Mark wanted to go to what was probably the last place Kian would choose.

Mariah Carey on his iPod.

Fuck.

“Kian's in love with me.”

“Obviously.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “Are you in love with him?”

“No.”

Except.

Knowing Kian was the one place he could turn, feeling totally comfortable every time he was pulled into a hug, being able to sleep beside him, wrapped around each other and feel like things were okay. Calling him and knowing Kian would always be there, that they'd do anything for each other, that he'd lay down his life for Kian in a heartbeat. Making him laugh and holding his hand and having stupid, idiotic jokes that only the two of them ever understood and missing him whenever he wasn't around, like a little hole in his chest that could only be filled by one thing.

Snogging him under the starlight and feeling him heave, moan in Mark's arms, locked together so tight he thought he'd never come up for air. Warm skin and slow kisses and a hand cupping his cheek, feeling more connected to someone than he ever had in his life.

“I'm in love with Kian.” He breathed. Nicky shrugged. “Oh, shit.”

“You're an idiot. Fuck it, I'm an idiot.” Nicky clambered off the bed. “Come on.” He grabbed his keys.

“Where are we going?”

“I'm going to beg Shane to take me back.” He threw a jacket at Mark's head. “Get your shit and let's go.”

 

*

 

Mark was in love with Kian.

It was a severely inconvenient thought.

In love with Kian.

Well he supposed...

Really?

Kian. Think of Kian.

Little glow in his chest, little panicked comfort in his stomach.

Shit. He was in love with Kian.

“I'm in love with Kian.” He murmured wonderingly to himself. Nicky looked at him from where he was hunched up in the passenger seat, legs jiggling nervously.

“How's the clarity?”

“I don't know.” He licked his lips, trying to think past the confused numbness. “What do I do now?”

“Oh yeah, let's worry about your thing.” Nicky snarked, crossing his arms and looking out the window at the dark streets. “Most important thing happening right now.”

“It's important to me.”

“I'm glad.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “Brilliant.”

“Do I tell him? Like... what if it ruins things? I like having him as my best friend.”

“Shane's my best friend. You can be in love with your best friend.”

“You were in love with him first, though.” Mark pointed out. “I don't want it to change things.”

“Because everything's perfect exactly the way it is?”

“Yes.” Mark paused. Dancing around each other, knowing there was more between them than either of them were saying, though _that_ was something he'd only just realised because apparently he was a fucking idiot. Snuggling up on the couch and saying I love you and sleeping together and everything being horrible but Kian.

He sighed, slouching over the steering wheel.

“No.”

“You should tell him.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. What do I fucking care?” They were pulling up in front of Kian and Mark's house and already there was a knot in his stomach. What was he even supposed to say? Just walk back in there like everything was normal? Like...

“Here we are.” Mark looked at Nicky, who was peering up at the house and biting his lip. “Do you want me to go in first or something?”

“No. I should...” Nicky's door opened. Mark pulled the handbrake and did the same, the car locking with a beep behind them as they both cautiously headed up the front path. It was dark, really late, maybe pushing eleven. Mark lifted a hand to knock.

Kian opened the door.

“Hi.” He said. Mark stared.

 _Fuck_.

He was in love with Kian.

“Hey.” Mark glanced over his shoulder at the nervous man behind him, at a cringing face and fidgeting hands. “Nicky wanted to talk to Shane.”

“That's nice.” Kian leaned in the doorframe, blocking off the entry. Mark swallowed.

“Can we come in?”

“I don't know.” Kian's eyes narrowed. “So how long's this been going on?”

“It hasn't.” Nicky piped up. “Really. It was ages ago and...” He was trying to peer around Kian. “Please. I just want to talk to Shane, make sure he knows I never meant to hurt him. That even if he doesn't take me back...” He craned his neck. “Shay! Can you hear me?”

There was dead silence. Mark felt himself twitch awkwardly under Kian's gaze, not sure what to do. Nicky was trying to push into the house, but to no avail.

“Please, Shane!” He called out. “I love you so much. I just want...” His voice cracked. “I thought you didn't love me. I was so hurt and I never meant to hurt you back. You were so perfect and I was trying to fill up a hole you'd left in me but... but I couldn't. Not for a single second. Nothing was ever worth as much as you. You're...” He gulped, a tear rolling down his cheek. Mark wondered if he should be offended at being thrown under the bus but couldn't be bothered when Kian's lips were pursed with annoyance.

“He can't hear you.” Kian said quietly.

“Shane!” Nicky's voice got louder. “Shane! Please!”

“He's gone back to Sligo.” Kian crossed his arms. Mark blinked. “He stayed here for about an hour to get himself under control, then he went back to Sligo.” Nicky sobbed, sagging on their front step.

“Ki, I'm...” Mark paused when Kian looked at him. Then looked at Nicky. Then back at him.

“Come inside.” He said finally. “We'll get on the road first thing in the morning.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

They got going just after dawn. They took Kian's car, Mark in the passenger seat and Nicky sitting nervously in the back, staring silently out the window. Mark did the same. Kian hadn't spoken a word to him since they'd gotten up. Mark had given Nicky his bed, had slept on the couch and been woken to a cup of coffee landing on the table next to him, Kian stalking stiffly away and into the bathroom to shower.

Nicky looked dreadful. Blotchy and sunken, eyes ringed and purple in a pale face. He kept chewing his fingernails. Mark caught Kian glancing at him a few times in the rearview mirror but neither of them had commented. There was nothing worth saying.

“Can we stop for the bathroom?” Mark said quietly. Kian glanced at him. They were still about two hours out and that coffee had hit the bottom.

“Sure.” He sighed. “Desperate or can you hold it until we get to a petrol station or something?”

“I can wait.” He didn't really feel like going behind a tree. It was too bloody cold this early. Kian didn't reply. “So... bet you didn't think we'd be going back to Sligo this soon?”

“That was almost six months ago.”

“Yeah.” Mark hesitated. “Want to look in on our families while we're there?”

“I don't know.” Kian was still staring straight ahead. “Might worry about that when we get there.”

“Well maybe...”

“Mark.” Kian's voice was flat. “Just... don't.” He closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, then opened them. They were on a straight, empty stretch of road, so there wasn't much chance of an accident. “Okay?”

“Okay. Sorry.” He shut his mouth. Fidgeted nervously. Opened the glovebox, just so he could at least appear casual and not like he was so hurt and embarrassed and guilty he wanted to throw himself into traffic. Kian's iPod was inside. He pulled it out and began to play with it, flicking through music. “Hm.” He chuckled awkwardly to himself. “Mariah Carey.” Kian nodded silently. “It's cool that you have this.”

“I guess so.”

“Yeah.” Mark kept flicking. There was a service station coming up. Kian pulled in, parked.

“You needed the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” Mark started to climb out. “Nicky? Do you need...?”

“I'm fine.” Nicky looked at the window. “I'll wait here.”

“Okay.” Mark shut the door, went inside to get the key, then wandered over to the concrete block at the back of the shop. It smelled like old urine and chlorine. He finished as quickly as possible, then headed back to return the key.

Nicky was waiting.

“Changed my mind.” He took the key, jogged off. Mark headed back to the car.

Kian was gone.

He looked around. He hadn't been in the shop. It was tiny and Mark would have spotted him, and he certainly hadn't been in the shitty, smelly bathroom. Then he spotted a small, lonely figure stood on the outskirts of the parking lot, leaning against a tree. Kian ran hands through his hair, looking totally lost as he stared out at the empty horizon, the motorway stretching out to sparse fields.

Mark climbed into the car to wait. After a few minutes Nicky still hadn't come back, and Kian hadn't moved. He looked down at the iPod again, trying to busy himself with something while his heart broke a little bit.

His eyes caught on an artist. He found himself smiling.

Okay, then.

He rolled down the window to the sound of Nine Inch Nails, cranked all the way up to eleven and just about bursting his eardrums, the Downward Spiral album on shuffle. Not exactly a romantic classic, but he saw Kian stiffen, saw him look up and stare at the car for a long moment. Then his lips curved into what was almost a smile and parted in a grudging laugh.

Mark turned the volume up a little louder.

Nicky came back and asked why the hell the music was so loud. Mark shook his head, covered the volume knob when Nicky went to turn it down, then elbowed him back, watching him slouch confused and annoyed into the back seat.

It was on the third track by the time Kian stood up straight, shook himself, and started to walk back over.

“Hey.” He said, leaning on the window sill. “Tape stuck in the player?”

“Might be.” Mark hedged, turning the volume down a little. It really was blasting. “Good band, this.”

“They're okay.” It was almost a smirk. He smiled back carefully. The door opened. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He settled back into his seat, glanced up in the rearview mirror. Nicky was staring between them, looking totally confused.

“This CD's depressing.”

“Yeah, well, old Kian likes it.” Kian retorted. Mark sniggered. “New Kian thinks it's okay too.” He sighed, looking at Mark. “This is fucked.”

“It's fucked.” Mark echoed. They both nodded. “I'm really sorry.”

“Yeah. I know. It's just...” Kian glanced at the rearview mirror. Nicky was crossing his arms in the back seat, staring out the window.

“I know.” Mark agreed. “It's a shit situation. I wish it wasn't, but...” He pursed his lips. Kian looked hurt, anger and frustration sinking into his shoulders, blue eyes guarded. He looked totally beautiful.

Mark touched his hand.

Kian flinched for a moment, then sighed, taking it. It squeezed.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark managed a smile. Kian rolled his eyes. “Sligo, huh?”

“Sligo.” Kian bit his lip. “Okay. Nicky, you ready?”

“I've been ready for ten minutes.”

“Good for you.” Kian looked back at Mark. “We should um...”

“We should.” Mark nodded. “So... yeah. Ehm...” He smiled awkwardly.

“What am I supposed to say, you know?” Kian sighed. “Like...”

“Oh shut up!” Nicky growled suddenly from the backseat. He was sitting up. A hand landed on each of their headrests. “Okay. Kian. Mark is fucking in love with you. Which is brilliant because you're in love with him. Blind people can fucking see it. So stop acting like blushing idiot teenagers who can't find their fucking balls with both hands, admit it to each other, shag each other's brains out, and stop bitching about everything! Jesus!” He threw himself back against the seat, crossing his arms. “Fuck!” He snarled. Mark flinched. Kian went bright red.

“Um.” Kian said, fumbling for the keys. “Um. What? No.” The engine started up. “Uh.”

“I don't know what you're talking... about...” Mark looked out the window. Nicky was glaring at both of them, he could see it in the wing-mirror. “Ha.”

“Ha.” Kian said quietly. The car turned off again, rumbling into silence. Mark bit his lip.

A hand touched his.

He looked over.

“Really?” Kian bit his lip.

“I...” Mark stared back. Saw it. The thing he'd been missing all along. The careful hope in knitted brows, the soft concern in Kian's touch. Blue eyes that had flinched when he'd said it was all a huge mistake. “Do you?”

“You first.”

“I do.” Mark murmured, felt his heart clench in his chest. Kian was looking as panicked as he felt. “I'm an eejit for not seeing it, but yeah.”

“Me ehm... me too.” He got a lopsided grimace. “Shit.” Kian let out a shaking sigh. “I don't want it to fuck things up between us. I don't want to ever...” He looked away. “You're my best friend. And... and I want you so much it kills me.”

Mark nodded, hand turning into Kian's, fingers knitting together. Kian's other hand covered both of theirs, trembling just slightly. Mark looked back up, saw pink cheeks and a tired face.

“So... yeah.” He said helplessly. Kian nodded.

“Yeah.” Both hands went back to the wheel. Mark felt totally bereft. His skin tingled, he was flushed, and he felt like a great big idiot.

The key turned. The engine rumbled.

They pulled back out onto the motorway, headed west.

 

*

 

They reached Sligo around midday. The traffic had been murder on the last stretch. Some accident between a tractor and a horse trailer, to which Kian had laughed and said that could only happen in Sligo. No-one seemed to be hurt, and the horses were all fine, milling around near the road and looking quite pleased at nibbling the hay the tractor had been dragging.

By the time they got through the traffic was backed up like crazy and Nicky was bouncing nervously in the back seat. Kian seemed unwilling to take any active part in this, which Mark could totally understand. He'd seen Shane's face, knew Kian couldn't exactly be all that sympathetic, but at least he'd been willing to help out.

Mark had spent the last three hours of the drive trying not to giggle helplessly every time he looked at Kian. Nine Inch Nails had finished, they'd set it to shuffle, and there had been awkward silence after that, underscored by whatever random crap came on Kian's iPod. Some of it he liked, some of it he didn't, though he hadn't been paying all that much attention, not when Kian's mouth kept curving into helpless, baffled smiles. Not when a hand reached across while they were stuck in the jam and gently squeezed his knee.

“This is it.” Kian announced. The Carlton Cafe, still up and running, the lunch rush well under way. Nicky peered out. “What do you want to do?” He looked back at Nicky, but Mark got the sudden feeling it wasn't Nicky he was talking to. Eyes flicked to him for the barest moment.

“Erm...” Nicky reached for the door handle. “Don't know.” He looked at them, all his impatience suddenly gone, eyes lost. “Can you wait here for a few minutes maybe? Like, if he doesn't let me in...”

“Sure.” Kian nodded. Nicky climbed out, the door closing behind him with a thunk. He staggered stiffly up to the front door and disappeared inside.

It was awfully quiet in here.

“So.” Mark scratched his arm. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Kian looked up. “What happens now?”

“Not a clue.” He admitted. They both giggled awkwardly. “How um... how long?”

“A... while, I guess.” Kian blushed. “I don't think I quite realised until Kevin cheated on you, you know? The first time? And I was like... why can't Mark be with someone who'll be good to him? Someone he deserves. Someone like... me.” He looked away. “Yeah.”

“You never said.”

“I didn't want to think about it. You were in a relationship. And then you broke up and I just wanted to... be there for you. Because I love you. Aside from all the romantic crap, I love you. So I just dated other guys, figured I just hadn't met the one yet, and for a bit things seemed to be going really well with Brian and... I didn't think I cared if we were together or not, but then I did. I do.” He sighed. “Fuck.”

“I love you too.” Mark murmured. “The last few months have been...” He groaned softly. Kian chuckled. “Well, you know.”

“I do.” Kian snorted. A hand touched his. Their fingers curled together, so effortless Mark felt his breath catch. Kian leaned over, gathered him into a hug. Mark felt himself relax, wrapped his arms around a strong waist, feeling arms squeeze him gently.

“Sorry.” Mark murmured. “This is really complicated.”

“When isn't it?” A kiss touched his cheek. Mark smiled, felt a thrill of butterflies fill his chest. “How long?”

“I don't know. I guess...” He tightened his hold. “I guess I never thought about it. All I know is everyone else has never been...” He closed his eyes, glad this felt as comfortable as it ever had. “Maybe the reason nobody else has ever been right is because I never realised I already had the perfect one for me. I was just to stupid to see it.” He kissed Kian's cheek. “It sounds totally unromantic, I know, but... I want to be your best friend. But like... for always. Because you're the thing that makes me happy.” Kian snorted. “But with sex, obviously."

“Sex is good. The sex was... really good.” Kian sniggered. “I never regretted it. I just regretted that it had to happen like that, me being totally miserable and you not knowing. That it meant something to me.”

“It meant something to me too.” Mark assured him. “I just didn't realise until...” He sighed. “This is the most awkward conversation we've ever had.”

“Not a bad run, then. Ten years without an awkward conversation, and we've managed to cram all of them into the last six months.” Kian snorted. “It's been shit.”

“It's been really shit.” Mark agreed. They pulled back, both of them laughing. “Can we just fuck all of it off?”

“I think that'd be for the best.” Kian rolled his eyes. “What do we do now? I feel like this is that bit where we snog in the rain then shag in slow-motion.”

“It's not raining.” Mark looked up. Nicky was just coming out the door again, jogging towards the car. He rolled down the window. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky looked panicked, but he was smiling a little. “He said he'd talk to me.”

“That's good.” Mark encouraged. “Want us to do anything?”

“No. God. But... thanks. Thank you. I'm sorry. For everything.” Nicky paused. Took a deep breath. “Right, I'm gonna...” He gestured back at the house. “Look... I'll either be coming back with him or I'll make my own way but... thanks.”

“No problem.” Mark smiled. Kian popped the boot for Nicky to get his bag out, then the two of them watched out the window as he ran clumsily back inside, bag banging the door frame on the way through. When he looked back, Kian was laughing.

“Hopeless.” He chuckled. “Bloody hell, talk about drama.”

“Them or us?”

“Everyone. Just...” Kian shook his head. “Why's it all so fucking complicated?”

“No idea.” Mark squeezed his hand. “So we're... together, then, are we?”

“I suppose we are.” Kian huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “If you want.”

“Yeah. I mean... yeah. Okay. As long as it doesn't change anything.”

“Except for the sex.”

“Except for the sex.” Mark agreed. “Do we do that now, or?” Kian smirked, taking his hand.

“Want me to be honest?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, really honest? And you won't get upset?”

“I guess.” Mark shrugged. “What's up?”

“I'm totally exhausted, and as much as I love you I really just want to go to sleep in a big soft bed for like twelve hours and not wake up until dinner.” Blue eyes pleaded apologetically. “I know that's not all that romantic, but...”

“No. God. I thought it was just me.” Mark sagged with relief. “I'm wrecked. Thank god. I thought I was going to have to get it up.”

“I haven't a chance in hell.” Kian admitted. They both giggled. “Want to go see if my parents are in? We can pass out in my old room.”

“That sounds amazing.” Mark yawned, feeling the last few days catch up on him. A hand squeezed his, then let go to land on the steering wheel. “Mind if I kip while you drive?”

“Not at all.” Mark leaned over to kiss Kian's cheek. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mark closed his eyes, curling his knees up on the seat. A hand ran gently through his hair. “G'night, muppet.”

“G'night, twatface.” There was a smile in Kian's voice. He felt it touch his own lips, a contented tingle spreading right down to his toes. 

“Wake me when we get there.”


	14. Epilogue

Mark couldn't find his bloody tie.

“Kian!”

“What?” A head popped out from the bathroom, bowtie hanging loose from a starched collar, a toothbrush shoved in Kian's mouth.

“Can't find my tie.”

“Where did you last see it?”

“If I knew that I wouldn't be asking.” Mark glared as his boyfriend disappeared back into the bathroom, then reappeared, wiping his mouth with a hand-towel. “Help me look?”

“Where have you already looked?”

“Everywhere.” He pouted. “S'not there.”

“Well, I don't know how I'm supposed to help.” Arms looped around his shoulders, a minty kiss pressing to his mouth. “You're on your own.”

“You're horrible.”

Kian chuckled. “I'm awful.” Another kiss brushed his mouth. “Terrible.” A tongue flitted across his bottom lip. Mark grudgingly allowed it, feeling himself go hot when his own traitorously edged out to meet it. “So bad.”

“Mean.” Mark breathed. A hand was sneaking down his back, sliding into his pocket. He moaned, tilting his head and ducking lower to give Kian more access as the other hand slid down his front. “Complete bastard.”

“Mm...” Lips parted, coaxing him in. “Don't know why you stay with me.” It rumbled hot against his lips. Mark whimpered.

“Yeah. No.” Speech was apparently out the window. “Don't um...”

“We have time.” The hand sliding down his front reached it's destination. They both groaned, lips coming together suddenly harder, his own hands closing on curving hips and turning them towards the bed.

“We have time?”

“We have time.” Kian glanced at his watch. “Wedding's not until three.”  Mark couldn't believe it was here.  After that whole debacle with Nicky he thought he and Shane were done for sure.  The engagement had been broken, of course, but a few months later they'd started quietly dating again.  Nothing big or public, just slowly being around each other until two years later Nicky had popped the question again.  Shane had said no.  Six months after that he'd said yes.  They were a disaster, but they did seem to love each other.  Mark knew what that was like.

He pushed until Kian fell onto the mattress then started to climb on top, pinning the smaller man down. He bent, beginning to suck slow kisses down his throat, tongue flicking out while fingers threaded into his hair, hips arching up.

“Yes.” Kian breathed. Mark smirked. He'd thought he'd known everything about Kian, but the last five years had been their own special revelation. He'd enjoyed every minute, every little secret revealed, every cute little quirk.

Like knowing how Kian would respond when he put his tongue just...

“Oh...” Kian gasped, head tilting back to allow it. “Oh... Mark.”

“Sexy.” Mark whispered, breathing over the spot. “Can I suck you?”

“Yes.” Hips lifted, hardness grinding into his. He shuddered. “Marky...” There was a whining cry as Mark nibbled on the other spot, the one right below Kian's chin. “Don't ruin the suits.” They both laughed, looking at each other, Mark smiling at the look of affection in gorgeous sky-blue eyes. A hand palmed his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mark smiled. “Every day.”

“All of them.” A kiss touched his nose. “You're my ten.”

“You're my eleven.” Mark smirked, saw Kian raise an eyebrow.

“You're my twelve.”

“You're my thirteen.” He stuck his tongue out. Kian poked him.

“You're my million.”

“Million and one.”

“Infinity.”

“Infinity and one.”

“Infinity infinities plus one.” Kian retorted.

“You're my infinity infinities plus one squared.” Mark grinned. “And one more.”

“Two more.

“Kian?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” Mark pecked his nose. “Shane and Nicky are getting married in like three hours and I want to suck your dick before then.” He captured Kian in a hard kiss, trying his best to urge him to speechlessness.

It sort of worked. Shoving a hand down Kian's trousers didn't hurt.

He let go, rolling them over so Kian was on top and giggling when a head landed on his chest. He kissed blonde hair.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” Kian looked up. “You're my favourite mess.”

“You're mine.” He sat up, tugging Kian into his lap. Legs wrapped carefully around his waist. “Pretty good mess.”

“Not bad.” A hand brushed hair off his forehead. Their noses rubbed together, Kian's other hand slipping intently into his jacket.

Then he felt a laugh vibrate between them, pulled back to look at Kian.

“What?”

“Nothing, just...” Kian's hand slid into his inside jacket pocket, then pulled out. Mark looked up as a length of fabric was dangled in front of his face, pinched between Kian's fingers. His boyfriend smirked. “Looked everywhere?”

“Oh.” He felt himself go pink, then started to laugh when Kian did, not able to help himself. The tie was draped around his shoulders, Kian tugging on the ends until they were kissing again. “There the whole time.” He chuckled. Kian grinned.

“I guess so.” The hand slid back into his jacket. He smiled, feeling it palm over his heart. “Obvious, really.”

“You'd think so.” He tugged Kian in for another kiss.

What came next wasn't in slow-motion, wasn't perfect, wasn't earth-shattering or world-changing. But afterwards, their rumpled suits on the floor and Kian panting against his own heaving chest, both of them sticky and giggling breathlessly on the bed; afterwards, when all Mark could see was blue eyes and a fond smile, and all he could feel was safe and wanted and loved...

When Kian started misting up during the ceremony and Mark silently handed him a tissue. When a hand slipped into his at the reception and Kian asked quietly if he wanted to dance and Mark said yes, yes please, and felt arms wrap gently around his shoulders. When they went back to their place after, fell onto the sofa in front of the fireplace with their trousers undone and their ties loose and one of Kian's shoelaces trailing on the floor. When he woke up the next morning knowing there was nowhere else to be but buried in Kian's chest. When he glanced over from the hotplate and saw Kian leaning in the window, the sun glowing golden in his hair, his smile as big as the world.

That was pretty fantastic too.

 


End file.
